Hello! I am so sorry for another long wait. Being a pre-med major allows for very little free time during the semester...
It was a long night. At some point, exhaustion must have gotten the better of me in the quiet, dark infirmary. I didn't remember falling asleep with my crossed arms resting on the small mattress and my head atop them, but I woke up that way, disoriented and unsure of how long I'd been out. I sat up. Unfortunately, it was not the first time I'd slept in such a position.
A handful of nightlights spaced unevenly throughout the long room allowed for just enough light to safely navigate the beds and patients, and for me to make out the members of my family around me. Logan was still unconscious and a quick glance behind me revealed Annabeth still in Nicky's bed, holding him as he curled into her comforting embrace. Both of them appeared soundly asleep as well. I squinted down at the watch on my wrist. Between the dimness and my exhaustion, it took a second for my eyes to focus enough for me to read it. It was just after five. The sun would rise soon. With a sigh, I sat back, debating the merits of moving to one of the empty beds nearby and trying to sleep a few more hours. It was one of the last things I wanted to do with Logan's prognosis still so uncertain, but I definitely needed sleep and there was little else to do at this hour.
I stood and stretched, already feeling the effects of sleeping for several hours in a weird position—I wasn't sixteen anymore. I turned for the empty bed across the way and made it all of one step before a voice, weak and hoarse with disuse, stopped me dead in my tracks. "Dad."
I whirled around, my heart in my throat, and found Logan awake in bed, his eyes on me. "Hey," I breathed, crossing to him as quickly and quietly as possible, undiluted relief flooding me so violently I could have started full-on sobbing right there. "Hey," I repeated, stopping beside him and taking his hand. I released a breath. "Welcome back." I tried to be mindful of the people sleeping around me but the emotion flooding me was all-consuming and I honestly wasn't sure how quiet I was actually being. I turned on the lamp at his bedside, ignoring the urge to shy away from the sudden bright.
"How's—" Logan croaked, "Where's Nicky? Is he okay?"
"He's fine," I answered gently, indicating the bed behind me, "He's asleep. He's been really worried about you."
The next question was asked with enough hesitance that I knew he already knew the answer. "And… Sean?"
I took a deep breath and squeezed the hand I still held, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, champ."
Logan swallowed and took a deep breath as he nodded. "Nicky… he has to know this isn't his fault. That I got hurt… He blames himself for stuff, but this isn't… it's—"
"I know." I squeezed his hand. "We talked to him already. He'll be alright,"
He nodded and took another breath. "How-how long have I been here?"
"Persephone brought you back here last night. Chiron IMed us during dinner at Grandma's. It's almost the next morning."
I stepped away momentarily then and reached behind me to place a hand on Annabeth's exposed shoulder, shaking slightly. She was a light enough sleeper that it didn't take very long at all before her eyes opened and met mine. I offered a tiny smile and a small nod toward Logan's bed. She followed the cue and glanced over, craning her neck to do so with the position Nicky held her in.
I knew the second she noticed Logan was alive and conscious. Her eyes grew wide and she looked to be fighting against her own surge of emotion as she turned and, after a quick, obvious mental battle in deciding whether to wake him up or let him sleep, quickly but oh-so-gently extricated herself from Nicky, deftly replacing herself with a pillow for him to lie on. I half-expected him to wake up with the movement but he was really out and didn't stir.
Annabeth rushed to our eldest son and clearly would have flung herself on him if it hadn't been for his injuries. As it was, she pulled him to her with care and hugged him, burying her face in his hair. "Thank gods," she murmured, "Thank gods."
"It's okay, Mom," Logan told her quietly even while a strange expression had crossed his face.
She kissed his head and stepped back, assessing him. She, of course, noticed the look on his face immediately. "Are you okay, honey? Are you in pain?"
The legacy answered the question with a question. "How bad were my injuries?" he asked quietly, looking between us with that same odd expression.
Annabeth and I exchanged a quick glance. "They were pretty bad," I answered slowly. "You had—"
Annabeth cut me off. "Logan, can you feel your legs?" she asked firmly, an undercurrent of fear lacing her words.
"I…" he started, tears suddenly welling in his eyes. He shook his head and whispered, "I don't think so."
My heart sank just about to the floor as his words registered with me too late. Of course. Of course! How could I have forgotten? I'd been so overwhelmed by the fact that he was awake, I'd completely forgotten the condition he was in, the severity of his injuries, his spine… Gods.
My mind was reeling. Some small part of it managed to process Annabeth, devastation she tried to hide plain in her gray eyes, grabbing Logan's hand. "It's okay. It'll be okay," she told him. She turned to me then. "Get the Apollo camper." My brain didn't direct my response fast enough. "Percy."
I moved then, turning to go without a word. I had no idea what to say, what to do. How was one supposed to react to something like that, especially in front of a scared teenager? There was too much going on in my mind, but getting the Apollo camper was something I could do. So I put one foot in front of the other and went to find him.
There seemed to be a rotation of three campers that minded the infirmary each night. The one I woke up was different than the one who'd been there when I'd fallen asleep—three hours ago? Four? He didn't seem very phased at having been robbed of sleep as I briefly explained the situation and led him back to where Logan and Annabeth waited. I wasn't sure what the rest of the infirmary's occupants, who were supposed to be sleeping but who I really doubted still were, heard. It was the least of my concerns for the moment.
The camper, who introduced himself as Levi, set to thoroughly examining Logan, poking and prodding, asking him if this hurt or if he felt that. Logan was quiet and cooperative, almost to the point of complacency as the camper worked. He spoke only when spoken to and he looked crushed, even without the final verdict. I couldn't say I blamed him. I was still reeling; I could only imagine how much worse it was for him. It killed me having to watch, utterly useless.
Annabeth kept a firm hold on Logan's hand and watched intently as Levi checked his wounds and felt along his back, but she glanced away now and met my eyes. In hers, I could see more fear and devastation than I remembered seeing in a long, long time. And I knew exactly what she was feeling, because I felt it too. The thought that something was wrong with my child—it was paralyzing, infinitely worse than anything I'd ever felt for myself. And there was nothing at all I could do.
I was glad Nicky was still sleeping across the way. With as guilty as he already felt, the last thing he needed was to see this.
"How bad is it?" Logan managed in a whisper as Levi straightened and readjusted his blankets.
"It's hard to say," the son of Apollo admitted grimly, glancing briefly between Annabeth and me before focusing on Logan again. "Right now, there's still all lot of inflammation around your spine, so it's hard to tell exactly how bad the actual damage to it is. It's possible the pressure from the swelling is what's causing your paralysis and once that goes down, you might be able to walk again."
"Might?"
Levi sighed. "I'm sorry. Spinal injuries are hard. If its actual damage to your spinal cord that's causing this, it won't matter if the inflammation goes down or not. Injuries like that… well, they're usually permanent."
"Great," Logan replied harshly. "That's just great."
Levi just stepped back, looking resigned to his patient's reaction, and I wondered how much experience he had with giving earth shattering news. "I'm sorry."
Logan just shook his head. Levi silently turned to Annabeth and me. "Thank you," I said quietly. He nodded and then left.
As one, we watched him go and then looked at our son, now staring vacantly up at the ceiling. Annabeth reached for his hand but he pulled away. "Logan—"
"Please," he said in barely more than a broken whisper, "Can I just… have a few minutes? Alone?"
Something inside me shattered at that. Annabeth looked like she wanted to protest, but I stopped her with a hand on her back. "We'll be outside," I quietly told him.
Annabeth allowed me to guide her past the curtained off area that designated Logan's bed space, toward Nicky's. I pulled it closed and then stood with her outside the two. I hugged her. Or maybe she hugged me. Either way, we just stood outside the cordoned off space and held each other as tight as possible, without crying or speaking or screaming, all of which I might have considered doing. No reaction seemed adequate just now.
She spoke first, after what could have been minutes or hours, her voice a whisper in the still-dark infirmary. "We should tell Nicky."
I hated the idea. She was right. I sighed and then reluctantly nodded.
In the end, after a short, whispered conversation, we decided telling Nicky sooner rather than later was best. We hated to wake him, but it was better than him waking up and finding out the hard way about his brother. Not that this way would really be all that much easier…
Annabeth laid a hand on his arm and whispered his name in the dark room. He jerked slightly, his eyes flying wide, and then relaxed when he saw the two of us. "What happened?" he asked, fear tinging his voice.
She shushed him gently. "We want to talk to you," she said quietly.
"Why?" he asked more quietly but still anxiously, "Is Logan okay? What time is it?"
"It's about five-thirty," she said, not-so subtly ignoring his first question. "Let's go outside so we don't wake everyone up. Come on."
Nicky obediently complied, looking worried. He'd noticed his mother's omission. Together, we crossed to the infirmary's exit. The sky outside was lightening with the approaching dawn and the camp was utterly silent as we stood together on the Big House porch.
"Is Logan okay?" Nicky asked once more the moment the door closed behind us.
Annabeth took a deep breath and exchanged a glance with me. Looking back at him, she took another breath but didn't say anything for several more moments. I couldn't tell if the problem lay more in not knowing where to begin or in the ability to actually produce words in the moment, but Nicky was looking more panicked by the second.
I placed a hand on her arm and, steeling myself, took lead on the conversation.
"He woke up a few minutes ago," I informed the almost thirteen-year old.
Nicky straightened. "What? I want to see him!"
"You will," I promised. "But there's something you need to know before you do."
He looked between us. "What? Is he okay?"
I wanted to dance around the subject a little more, ease him into the idea, but I didn't know how to do that and I was too emotionally worn out to try. So I just told him, going to that place in my mind that kept my feelings out of the equation. "He's okay. He's awake and is going to live… But he can't feel legs, Nick. As of right now, he's paralyzed from the waist down."
Nicky blinked, and then blinked again as a sequence of emotions played across his features. Some I could read, some I couldn't. Shock was a pretty prevalent one and seemed to be the one that he let dominate for the time being as he asked. "Are you sure?" I just nodded, my insides twisting. He looked between us, his mouth open a little. "Is… is it permanent?"
Beside me, Annabeth wore a mask of calm except for her lips, which pressed together a bit too hard. I knew that tell. It meant she was trying not to cry in front of him. And she wouldn't because she was Annabeth and she had more self-control than anyone I knew, but gods, if it didn't break my heart anyway.
"We don't know yet," I answered, "The Apollo camper looked at him and said we won't know for sure until he heals a little. But if his spine is damaged, there's no fixing it."
Nicky was blinking faster now, holding back his own tears that threatened. I put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, bud."
He swallowed, shook his head, and whispered, "It's my fault."
"No," I said quickly, beating Annabeth, who opened her mouth to speak now, to protest, to it. "No, it's not." I hugged him. "It's not your fault." I hugged him another second but then let him go, stepping back to meet his eyes, to make sure he heard what I said next. "Logan knew what he was doing when he saved you. But it's all very fresh and he's really upset right now. We left him alone for a few minutes because he asked us to, and when you go in there, he might still be upset. But he doesn't blame you, okay? He loves you."
Nicky hesitated for a second but then nodded, holding my gaze with his. "Come here," I said and hugged him again. He held tight. Annabeth joined in and the three of us stood there for a long moment, sharing each others' strength, drawing out the seconds before we all had to face reality again.
"Ready?" I asked finally. Nicky nodded against me and pulled away from us. He moved for the door and I moved to follow before Annabeth grabbed my hand, stopping me. I looked at her. She just stared fixedly down at our entwined hands, probably trying to gather herself before heading back inside. I squeezed her hand and then stepped in to kiss her forehead. She let me and met my eyes when I stepped back again, her hand still clutched in mine.
"I love you," she said softly.
"I love you too."
A pause. "We're going to figure this out, right?"
"We're going to figure this out," I agreed quietly.
We were inside a moment later, moving down the now-familiar path to the end of the infirmary. The curtain had been left partially open, indicating Nicky's presence in Logan's room. A few steps closer allowed us to see in and we stopped.
Inside, Nicky kneeled on the bed with Logan, both boys' arms thrown around the other and gripping tight. Nicky's back was to us but Logan had tears running down his face. He did not look angry or bitter or broken though. He only looked sad; sad and taking comfort from his brother's presence, from the fact that he was alive and okay.
I grabbed Annabeth's hand and squeezed. It was a heartbreaking display, but there was also an air of hope in it that I couldn't quite place. This was a healing moment as much as it was a painful one. And I found myself thinking for the first time since receiving Chiron's IM the night before that maybe, just maybe, everything might eventually be okay.
Thank you for reading and, again, for your patience in waiting for these updates. The holidays are coming and I will hopefully have more spare time to write then. I will try, I promise!
