A/N: I know that I'm taking ages to post, and I'm very sorry. Still, I hope that a few people are still reading this. I can't promise to post regularly at the moment, because I'm drowning in work. So I beg for your patience-and just a little, teeny tiny review, maybe? :) Tell me what you think.
Seizures and thoughts
***
Logan woke up in the middle of the night. He didn't know what had woken him, but he had the strange feeling that something was wrong. He stretched out his arm to the other side of the bed and patted the covers hoping to find Max' slim figure. But she wasn't there.
He sat up with a start and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Then he fingered for his glasses and hastily put them on one-handed. His other hand was searching for the cane that he had left leaning against the side of the nightstand. Glancing around, his eyes slowly adapting to the darkness, Logan noticed a beam of light fall into the bedroom. The bathroom door was open a crack. "Max?" he called out. There was no answer. Hastily, he got to his feet, swaying a little before he caught his balance, and then stumbled forward towards the bathroom, cursing his numb feet. 'Just work for now! Just one more time,' he hissed.
When he pushed the bathroom door open, he was shocked to find Max huddled on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chin. Her gaze was directed into nothing and she was seizing violently.
"Oh my God, Max!" Logan exclaimed, letting himself slide down to the floor next to her.
Without focusing on him, Max shakily took hold of his hand, which had come to rest next to her own, squeezing it in a tight grip obviously unable to control its force. Logan winced.
"Hang on a second!" he said entwining his hand from hers and pushing himself up into a standing position again. "I'll get the pills."
He walked over to the cupboard and searched for the bottle of Tryptophan. Then he slid down beside Max again. Leaning against the side of the bathtub, he gently tilted her head back and forced some pills down her throat. He felt her iron grip around his hand again.
"Shhh, honey. You're gonna be okay. These will help." He said soothingly. "I'm here."
Logan pulled her close to his chest and stroked her hair back from her sweaty face. He wondered for how long she had been sitting there. All she was wearing were tank top and shorts. She had to be freezing. Logan reached for a towel and carefully wiped her face with it, then put it around her bare shoulders. Her whole body was shaking now, completely out of control. Logan held her head to his chest, hoping the Tryptophan would kick in soon. This was really scary! He had never seen Max that bad before. And the Tryptophan was taking its time! With Max's hand close to squishing his own, he hoped and prayed for the seizure to subside. But it didn't.
Three minutes passed, five minutes passed. Nothing. Her condition hadn't improved at all. Completely at a loss what else to do to help her, Logan got out another handful of pills and forced Max mouth open again to squeeze them in.
"Swallow Max, swallow. Just a few more!" he pleaded with her. He just hoped that he was doing the right thing. The bottle of pills was nearly empty.
Finally, after another torturous five minutes, Logan felt Max's body relax a little. Her grip of his hand loosened. Her head rested heavily against his chest.
Sighing with relief, Logan shifted a little under her and let her slide down carefully, so her head was resting in his lap. He watched her take a few deep breaths, her features and her whole body relaxing gradually. She seemed to be dozing off now. Before she could fall asleep, Logan patted her face lightly.
"Max, can you hear me?"
Max tilted her head a little but didn't respond. Logan tried again. "Max, honey, you okay?"
This time he got through to her. When she finally opened her eyes wearily, he let out another sigh.
"Feeling a little better?"
"Logan…What?….Ye…Yeah." She managed, still with a slight trembling in her voice.
"You had me scared there!" Logan said, trying to sound light- hearted.
"Scared …..myself, …too." Max replied weakly, fighting back the sleep that was claiming her. "Though…I can't …remember…how I…got…here." She looked up at Logan with bleary eyes.
Logan shook his head. "Something woke me up. I saw the light in the bathroom and I found you here, on the floor. Gosh, I don't think I've ever seen you that bad. I had to feed you half the bottle of Tryptophan, before it worked. " Logan said seriously, stroking her forehead. "I honestly think you should go see a doctor about that. Especially in your condition..." He added hesitantly, knowing what her reaction would be.
Max shakily ran her fingers over her face. "You know… I can't… do that," she said frowning.
Logan wouldn't get her away with that. "Max, if you don't do it for yourself, do it for the sake of the child. You wouldn't want to risk anything, do you" he said soft but determined. "And you know you can trust Sam. We could go there first thing in the morning. …I was going to see him anyway." He paused for her to let the words sink in.
Even in her weakened state, Max managed to glare up at him. "Weren't you the one …who refused ….to see a doctor…just a few hours ago." she asked confused. Logan put on his best poker face. If that was the only way to get her to see Sam, he'd have to play along.
"Actually, I was planning on seeing him Monday at the latest," he said. "These spasms are getting worse by the hour. I thought I'd better have something at hand –just in case…" Max frowned, trying to process his words. It seemed like her mind was always two steps behind. She opened her mouth to say something, but Logan was quicker. "Now let's get you back to bed." he said without waiting for her answer.
Feeling her mind drift off again, Max just nodded. She was much too exhausted to argue right now.
Meanwhile Logan struggled to prop the sleepy Max back up against the bathtub, then staggered to his feet. His toes and whole forefeet were numb now. "Ok, let's do it, Max, before you fall asleep in here!" he said, offering his arm, holding onto the bathtub for support with his free hand.
"Do you think you can walk over?" Max heard Logan ask through the fog in her head. "…cause I don't think I can carry you."
Max nodded and shakily got to her feet, gratefully accepting Logan's outstretched arm. In what seemed to be slow motion compared to her usual pace, she made her way back to the bedroom, pausing in the door-frame to catch her breath.
Logan followed close behind her, hoping that she would make it back to the bed safe on her own. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier but his legs had begun to spasm quite heavily again, making it difficult for him to even make a straight path. A burning sensation had added onto the numbness in his legs, which was close to driving him up the wall. Maybe it was a good thing to see his doctor, after all.
Max collapsed on the bed and crawled under the covers pulling the blanket up over her head. She was still trembling slightly. She took a few deep breaths before she spoke.
"Logan?" came her muffled voice from underneath the covers.
"Yes Max?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.
"I'm freezing. …" she whined.
"I'll be right there…" Logan started, rubbing his thighs unconsciously. He'd get her to see a doctor, come what may, he concluded.
"I want a hot water bottle! …Can you get me one?" Max's voice came through again, making Logan smile in spite of himself. He had never seen her that cranky before. But he was thankful to be able to do something for her. Even if it was just getting a hot water bottle.
"Sure. Be back in a second." he said, carefully rising to his feet again. His gaze fell onto the wheelchair standing in the far corner of the room. He would have put it away as far as possible, but Bling had convinced him to keep it within easy reach, just in case.
Sighing, Logan reluctantly dismissed the idea of walking all the way over to the kitchen. He better be quick if he didn't want Max to freeze before he got back. Moreover, he wasn't even sure whether he'd make it at all. Frowning, he limped over and sat down in the chair, lifting his rebelling legs onto the footrest.
He shivered, as he made his way to the kitchen. Just sitting down in that chair horrified him. What if he couldn't get up again? What if his legs decided to give up on him completely just now? All those past months his body had been mocking him, playing tricks on him, failing him in the worst of all moments. Then, all of the sudden he would be up and walking again, being the happiest person on earth-except for the lurching fear in the back of his mind; the fear of being disappointed again, of losing it all over again.
He would be afraid to go to bed at night because he didn't know if he'd be able to get up in the morning.
Each time he had been walking, he had felt his pride and self-confidence swell, his old cockiness return and his life unravel before him. Each time he had ended up back in the chair, his life seemed to be blown away in just a second. How was he supposed to accept being confined to the chair for the rest of his life when he had been walking only a short while ago? He couldn't quite wrap his mind around that.
He strangely felt even more broken and incomplete now, than he had felt right after the shooting. He had regained the ability to walk and had been forced to watch it slide away again. And there was nothing he could do.
'Half the man I used to be'- he had heard that old pre-pulse love song in the car, just the other day. How ironic, he thought bitterly. 'Half the man.. .'-out of the blue, all of the sudden. His ego crushed again. His manliness compromised -literally speaking. As much as he'd had liked to say that it didn't matter, that he was mature enough so that it didn't count- no matter how often Max had told him that she didn't care if he was in the chair and whatever came with it-he just couldn't see past it.
And despite his good intentions he couldn't see past all the other things he couldn't do.
People kept telling him to concentrate on the things he still could do. But who were they to judge him? They could do anything they liked. They could go anywhere they wanted to, without having to worry about not being able to reach, not being able to get there, not being able to do anything without being drawing attention. He hated to stand out everywhere he went, to be recognised not for his face but for his chair. He hated having people look down at him, towering around him, when for so many years he had been one of the tallest guys in the room. But most of all, he hated not to be able to take care of Max, the way he wanted to, when she needed him.
Frowning, he filled the water boiler and switched it on.
Now it would be like that again. He felt a lump form in his throat. He had to accept it -for Max's sake and for the sake of their child. He'd have to find a way of dealing with being in the chair and with it being final this time. Having Max and the child would help a great deal. But in the end he knew he would have to work it out on his own.
His mind wandered off to a time some years ago. He had grown up to be perfect. Perfectly mannered, perfectly dressed, an outstanding student, a great athlete, a perfect gentleman. Still he had never been able to please his uncle. Uncle Jonas had always set his goals extremely high. Not even his own sons could live up to it. He, being an adopted child, had had no chance whatsoever to please him, no matter how hard he had tried. Having his ass shot off had probably been his uncle's biggest disappointment. Thinking of his uncle, Logan smirked. He had no idea why this bastard still got to him so badly, especially now that he was dead.
The water was boiling and he carefully poured it into the hot water bottle. He closed it carefully and put it into his lap to wheel over to the bedroom. He smiled when he felt the warmth radiate through the terry cloth cover of the bottle. He sighed deeply. He was going to miss that most of all. –the feeling. The feeling of Max on his lap, the feeling of the cold floor under his feet, the feeling of sand and water playing around his ankles, the feeling of sun on his skin, the feeling of a chair under his but -the feeling to have a lower body at all.
When Logan reached the bedroom, Max was already dozing. He climbed into the bed from his side and placed the hot water bottle under her feet... Then he wrapped his body around her small huddled figure. Max snuggled her head against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. He placed a soft kiss on her head.
"Are you okay, Logan?" she whispered. She tiredly tilted her had back and squinted at him. She could see the sadness in his eyes.
"Hey, that's my line!" he meekly replied.
"You know that I'm gonna be fine. Just need some rest." Max said, sleepily. "What about you?" She slung her arm around his body, resting her hand on his lower back.
Logan swallowed hard, burying his nose in her hair.
"Don't worry. I'll be okay." He said. '…hopefully…someday." he added under his breath.
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Seizures and thoughts
***
Logan woke up in the middle of the night. He didn't know what had woken him, but he had the strange feeling that something was wrong. He stretched out his arm to the other side of the bed and patted the covers hoping to find Max' slim figure. But she wasn't there.
He sat up with a start and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Then he fingered for his glasses and hastily put them on one-handed. His other hand was searching for the cane that he had left leaning against the side of the nightstand. Glancing around, his eyes slowly adapting to the darkness, Logan noticed a beam of light fall into the bedroom. The bathroom door was open a crack. "Max?" he called out. There was no answer. Hastily, he got to his feet, swaying a little before he caught his balance, and then stumbled forward towards the bathroom, cursing his numb feet. 'Just work for now! Just one more time,' he hissed.
When he pushed the bathroom door open, he was shocked to find Max huddled on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chin. Her gaze was directed into nothing and she was seizing violently.
"Oh my God, Max!" Logan exclaimed, letting himself slide down to the floor next to her.
Without focusing on him, Max shakily took hold of his hand, which had come to rest next to her own, squeezing it in a tight grip obviously unable to control its force. Logan winced.
"Hang on a second!" he said entwining his hand from hers and pushing himself up into a standing position again. "I'll get the pills."
He walked over to the cupboard and searched for the bottle of Tryptophan. Then he slid down beside Max again. Leaning against the side of the bathtub, he gently tilted her head back and forced some pills down her throat. He felt her iron grip around his hand again.
"Shhh, honey. You're gonna be okay. These will help." He said soothingly. "I'm here."
Logan pulled her close to his chest and stroked her hair back from her sweaty face. He wondered for how long she had been sitting there. All she was wearing were tank top and shorts. She had to be freezing. Logan reached for a towel and carefully wiped her face with it, then put it around her bare shoulders. Her whole body was shaking now, completely out of control. Logan held her head to his chest, hoping the Tryptophan would kick in soon. This was really scary! He had never seen Max that bad before. And the Tryptophan was taking its time! With Max's hand close to squishing his own, he hoped and prayed for the seizure to subside. But it didn't.
Three minutes passed, five minutes passed. Nothing. Her condition hadn't improved at all. Completely at a loss what else to do to help her, Logan got out another handful of pills and forced Max mouth open again to squeeze them in.
"Swallow Max, swallow. Just a few more!" he pleaded with her. He just hoped that he was doing the right thing. The bottle of pills was nearly empty.
Finally, after another torturous five minutes, Logan felt Max's body relax a little. Her grip of his hand loosened. Her head rested heavily against his chest.
Sighing with relief, Logan shifted a little under her and let her slide down carefully, so her head was resting in his lap. He watched her take a few deep breaths, her features and her whole body relaxing gradually. She seemed to be dozing off now. Before she could fall asleep, Logan patted her face lightly.
"Max, can you hear me?"
Max tilted her head a little but didn't respond. Logan tried again. "Max, honey, you okay?"
This time he got through to her. When she finally opened her eyes wearily, he let out another sigh.
"Feeling a little better?"
"Logan…What?….Ye…Yeah." She managed, still with a slight trembling in her voice.
"You had me scared there!" Logan said, trying to sound light- hearted.
"Scared …..myself, …too." Max replied weakly, fighting back the sleep that was claiming her. "Though…I can't …remember…how I…got…here." She looked up at Logan with bleary eyes.
Logan shook his head. "Something woke me up. I saw the light in the bathroom and I found you here, on the floor. Gosh, I don't think I've ever seen you that bad. I had to feed you half the bottle of Tryptophan, before it worked. " Logan said seriously, stroking her forehead. "I honestly think you should go see a doctor about that. Especially in your condition..." He added hesitantly, knowing what her reaction would be.
Max shakily ran her fingers over her face. "You know… I can't… do that," she said frowning.
Logan wouldn't get her away with that. "Max, if you don't do it for yourself, do it for the sake of the child. You wouldn't want to risk anything, do you" he said soft but determined. "And you know you can trust Sam. We could go there first thing in the morning. …I was going to see him anyway." He paused for her to let the words sink in.
Even in her weakened state, Max managed to glare up at him. "Weren't you the one …who refused ….to see a doctor…just a few hours ago." she asked confused. Logan put on his best poker face. If that was the only way to get her to see Sam, he'd have to play along.
"Actually, I was planning on seeing him Monday at the latest," he said. "These spasms are getting worse by the hour. I thought I'd better have something at hand –just in case…" Max frowned, trying to process his words. It seemed like her mind was always two steps behind. She opened her mouth to say something, but Logan was quicker. "Now let's get you back to bed." he said without waiting for her answer.
Feeling her mind drift off again, Max just nodded. She was much too exhausted to argue right now.
Meanwhile Logan struggled to prop the sleepy Max back up against the bathtub, then staggered to his feet. His toes and whole forefeet were numb now. "Ok, let's do it, Max, before you fall asleep in here!" he said, offering his arm, holding onto the bathtub for support with his free hand.
"Do you think you can walk over?" Max heard Logan ask through the fog in her head. "…cause I don't think I can carry you."
Max nodded and shakily got to her feet, gratefully accepting Logan's outstretched arm. In what seemed to be slow motion compared to her usual pace, she made her way back to the bedroom, pausing in the door-frame to catch her breath.
Logan followed close behind her, hoping that she would make it back to the bed safe on her own. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier but his legs had begun to spasm quite heavily again, making it difficult for him to even make a straight path. A burning sensation had added onto the numbness in his legs, which was close to driving him up the wall. Maybe it was a good thing to see his doctor, after all.
Max collapsed on the bed and crawled under the covers pulling the blanket up over her head. She was still trembling slightly. She took a few deep breaths before she spoke.
"Logan?" came her muffled voice from underneath the covers.
"Yes Max?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.
"I'm freezing. …" she whined.
"I'll be right there…" Logan started, rubbing his thighs unconsciously. He'd get her to see a doctor, come what may, he concluded.
"I want a hot water bottle! …Can you get me one?" Max's voice came through again, making Logan smile in spite of himself. He had never seen her that cranky before. But he was thankful to be able to do something for her. Even if it was just getting a hot water bottle.
"Sure. Be back in a second." he said, carefully rising to his feet again. His gaze fell onto the wheelchair standing in the far corner of the room. He would have put it away as far as possible, but Bling had convinced him to keep it within easy reach, just in case.
Sighing, Logan reluctantly dismissed the idea of walking all the way over to the kitchen. He better be quick if he didn't want Max to freeze before he got back. Moreover, he wasn't even sure whether he'd make it at all. Frowning, he limped over and sat down in the chair, lifting his rebelling legs onto the footrest.
He shivered, as he made his way to the kitchen. Just sitting down in that chair horrified him. What if he couldn't get up again? What if his legs decided to give up on him completely just now? All those past months his body had been mocking him, playing tricks on him, failing him in the worst of all moments. Then, all of the sudden he would be up and walking again, being the happiest person on earth-except for the lurching fear in the back of his mind; the fear of being disappointed again, of losing it all over again.
He would be afraid to go to bed at night because he didn't know if he'd be able to get up in the morning.
Each time he had been walking, he had felt his pride and self-confidence swell, his old cockiness return and his life unravel before him. Each time he had ended up back in the chair, his life seemed to be blown away in just a second. How was he supposed to accept being confined to the chair for the rest of his life when he had been walking only a short while ago? He couldn't quite wrap his mind around that.
He strangely felt even more broken and incomplete now, than he had felt right after the shooting. He had regained the ability to walk and had been forced to watch it slide away again. And there was nothing he could do.
'Half the man I used to be'- he had heard that old pre-pulse love song in the car, just the other day. How ironic, he thought bitterly. 'Half the man.. .'-out of the blue, all of the sudden. His ego crushed again. His manliness compromised -literally speaking. As much as he'd had liked to say that it didn't matter, that he was mature enough so that it didn't count- no matter how often Max had told him that she didn't care if he was in the chair and whatever came with it-he just couldn't see past it.
And despite his good intentions he couldn't see past all the other things he couldn't do.
People kept telling him to concentrate on the things he still could do. But who were they to judge him? They could do anything they liked. They could go anywhere they wanted to, without having to worry about not being able to reach, not being able to get there, not being able to do anything without being drawing attention. He hated to stand out everywhere he went, to be recognised not for his face but for his chair. He hated having people look down at him, towering around him, when for so many years he had been one of the tallest guys in the room. But most of all, he hated not to be able to take care of Max, the way he wanted to, when she needed him.
Frowning, he filled the water boiler and switched it on.
Now it would be like that again. He felt a lump form in his throat. He had to accept it -for Max's sake and for the sake of their child. He'd have to find a way of dealing with being in the chair and with it being final this time. Having Max and the child would help a great deal. But in the end he knew he would have to work it out on his own.
His mind wandered off to a time some years ago. He had grown up to be perfect. Perfectly mannered, perfectly dressed, an outstanding student, a great athlete, a perfect gentleman. Still he had never been able to please his uncle. Uncle Jonas had always set his goals extremely high. Not even his own sons could live up to it. He, being an adopted child, had had no chance whatsoever to please him, no matter how hard he had tried. Having his ass shot off had probably been his uncle's biggest disappointment. Thinking of his uncle, Logan smirked. He had no idea why this bastard still got to him so badly, especially now that he was dead.
The water was boiling and he carefully poured it into the hot water bottle. He closed it carefully and put it into his lap to wheel over to the bedroom. He smiled when he felt the warmth radiate through the terry cloth cover of the bottle. He sighed deeply. He was going to miss that most of all. –the feeling. The feeling of Max on his lap, the feeling of the cold floor under his feet, the feeling of sand and water playing around his ankles, the feeling of sun on his skin, the feeling of a chair under his but -the feeling to have a lower body at all.
When Logan reached the bedroom, Max was already dozing. He climbed into the bed from his side and placed the hot water bottle under her feet... Then he wrapped his body around her small huddled figure. Max snuggled her head against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. He placed a soft kiss on her head.
"Are you okay, Logan?" she whispered. She tiredly tilted her had back and squinted at him. She could see the sadness in his eyes.
"Hey, that's my line!" he meekly replied.
"You know that I'm gonna be fine. Just need some rest." Max said, sleepily. "What about you?" She slung her arm around his body, resting her hand on his lower back.
Logan swallowed hard, burying his nose in her hair.
"Don't worry. I'll be okay." He said. '…hopefully…someday." he added under his breath.
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