Authors' Note: Well, here we are, many weeks later and many chapters longer than we had anticipated! We've had so much fun with this story, sending it back and forth in emails when we were bored at work or late at night when we couldn't sleep, sometimes writing entire chapters in one day; sometimes taking a lot longer when we got stuck. It's been so great to get your feedback, too—thanks for reading, and thanks for letting us know what you think. We really, really appreciate it. And finally, but most importantly, we couldn't have done this without our fabulous beta, paulanka, who has polished it up for us and made it all look so pretty! And without further ado, here's the epilogue. Enjoy!
Not Even Wishes
Epilogue
The darkness enveloped him like a thick, warm blanket, folding softly around him, bright pinpoints of stars dotting the sky. Logan lay snug in his sleeping bag, watching the stars above him, listening to the quiet whistle of Colin's snore beside him. He couldn't sleep—maybe because of the excitement of a campout, or the sugar buzz of too many toasted marshmallows, but for whatever reason, he was still able to lie perfectly still. His eyes were open, but the night was so thick and dark that if it wasn't for the silhouette against the stars, he wouldn't know where the trees were.
It had been a full day, building forts in the woods, running through the acres of Colin's father's property, climbing trees and running through creeks, having a day to let loose and be the ten-year-old boys that they weren't allowed to be within the bounds of society. At night, though, there was something almost sacred, and even at such a young age, Logan was nearly holding his breath. This was too perfect to disturb, even by a too-loud sigh or a too-strong exhalation. This was peaceful, and no matter how noisy or rowdy or daring they were during the day, he knew to appreciate the silence at night.
The quiet chirp of crickets and the trilling of a lone bird floated to his ears, and a soft breeze brushed over his face, as gentle and light as fingertips caressing his cheek. Had he been a little less afraid of what he might come across on the ground, he might have gotten up and tried to explore a little, but then again, the night was best appreciated from inside the protection of a warm, fleecy sleeping bag.
"Logan," he heard his name whispered urgently from beside him. He turned his head in Colin's direction, but he couldn't see anything, and Colin wasn't responding. "Logan," he heard again, the whispered voice cracking and strained.
Logan tried to twist his body to turn toward the voice, but his sleeping bag was holding him tight, and his arms and legs were trapped in the fabric, pulled tightly so he couldn't move. "Come on, open your eyes," the voice said, becoming more feminine and familiar with every word.
His eyes squeezed shut more tightly, and then forced them open, the small motion expending every bit of effort. Harsh, fluorescent light flooded his eyes, and he snapped his eyelids shut again, protecting himself against the glare. A slight pressure on his hand increased, and he could feel something moving across his hand—something familiar. A touch he was well acquainted with; a soft touch, slightly firm, that evoked those feelings of safety and love and protection. Was he still dreaming?
He forced his eyes open, hoping he would see what he already sensed, and there she was, her blue eyes locked on his, and in that instant that they connected, he saw the relief flood her face.
"Ace?"
Logan watched as Rory's face lit up and she fell on top of him, squeezing. As much as it hurt—and it did, a lot—it felt so good to have her arms around him that he didn't care. Gathering his energy, he managed to move his arm—attempting to return her embrace but the second he moved she stood up.
Her hand was running all over his skin, and he couldn't get enough. It was amazing that she was here with him, and he still wasn't completely convinced it was real. Logan had dreamed about her so often, it could be another figment of his imagination. Though none of the dreams had his body hurting this much, and he was never in a hospital... and her touch never felt quite this good when it was a dream. "You're here," he whispered, and winced at the effort that speaking took. The look on Rory's face was one of amazement, and Logan was sure he had a similar one on his face. She was gripping his hand tightly and her tears spilled over yet she was grinning widely. He managed to muster up enough strength to squeeze her hand, trying to convey all that he couldn't yet vocalize.
As he looked around the room, he noticed it looked fairly… settled. Lived-in. Lots of cards, flowers, half-droopy balloons, and some stuff from his apartment. The last thing he remembered (that he was pretty sure wasn't a dream) was being loaded into the helicopter. "How—how long?" he managed to ask.
"It's Thursday," Rory replied, "and the accident happened Saturday night. It's been five days—almost a week."
Five days. Logan rolled the thought around in his head. That was a long time to lose. Not just that, but this had to have been hell for Rory, the waiting, the uncertainty. His mind wandered back to the day he left. He and Rory had been fighting, and their goodbye had been stilted and cold. He knew she had been hurt, and he hated that he had left her that way and then put her through even more with this. "I'm sorry," he told her in a low voice.
"Sshh," she cut him off. "Save your strength. Just don't you ever, ever do something like this to me again. You understand?" Her tone was sharp, but her voice was shaking. "I thought I was going to lose you. I'm just... I'm so glad you're awake."
The tears rolled uninhibited down her face, dropping onto his face as she leaned into him, and he could taste the saltiness as they fell onto his lips. "Ace," he whispered again, his voice growing slightly stronger the more he exercised it. She placed a finger on his lips, trying to cut him off, but he rolled his head back from side to side as far as he could. "I..." he swallowed painfully, trying to rid his mouth of the dry, cottony feeling. "I love you."
Her tears came again, harder, her face lit from within by a radiant glow, her smile beaming through the redness and snotty mess. "I thought I'd never hear you say that again," she sobbed, placing a palm on his cheek and caressing it.
Her phone rang just as she leaned in to kiss him lightly, startling both of them, making her jump back, and both of them giggled. Well, Rory giggled; Logan smiled, a dry chuckle escaping from his throat. His eyes followed her across the room as she flipped open the phone and spoke to the person on the other end, pacing excitedly as she talked, nearly bouncing on her toes. He couldn't hear everything she was saying, but her eyes were lit, and he definitely caught the loud, excited, "He's awake!" that threatened to wake the rest of the ward, if anyone could possibly still be unconscious after that.
She sobered slightly as the conversation went on, casting glances over at him, but it was over soon, and she took her seat at his side again, tucking the phone into her pocket.
"That was Honor," she said, a smile playing on the edges of her lips. "She'll be here to see you as soon as she can."
Honor... the thought of his big sister made Logan smile, and then it faded slightly as he thought of the scolding she was sure to have in store for him. He would be so damn glad to see her, though. He looked around the room again, taking in all the extra items for a second time, trying to place them. Rory couldn't have been here by herself the entire time, could she? No, she had school, and...
His forehead creased as he tried to think through the logistics of the past week, trying to remember Rory's schedule and who else was around, but the details evaded him, teasing at the edges of his memory.
"What's wrong?" Rory asked, concerned.
Logan caught her gaze, letting that settle him and anchor him to the room. "Who... who else is here?" he asked.
"Mostly Colin, Finn, and me," she replied. "They're out doing... actually, I have no idea what they're doing, and I'm not sure I want to know, but we've been here all week. Honor and Josh have been in and out ever since Monday night, and a few people from the Brigade have dropped in or sent cards."
"You've spent all week with Colin and Finn?" Logan croaked, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face, despite the way it stretched the bruises and scabs. "I'm sorry."
Rory laughed. "It gets even better," she says, her eyes twinkling with a secret. "They're my new roommates."
His eyes went wide, then narrow as he tried to figure out how that could possibly work. "Wha...?" he begins, unable to complete his thought.
She laughed harder at his confusion, needing to stop and catch her breath before she could continue. "We got an apartment near here," she said finally, wiping the last tears from her eyes and taking his hand again. "For... however long we need it. Until you woke up—until you finish rehab—until you can go home... however long it takes, we'll all be right here."
He slowly moved his hand, gripping her fingers as tightly as he could, up across his chest, until he could brush them with a kiss, feeling the dryness of his lips snag against her fingertips, but in that moment, he didn't care. She was there, and that was enough. "Thank you," he whispered, wishing he could do more to repay her.
"Yeah, well," Rory said to him with a small smile, "you're just lucky you're so cute."
Logan smiled in response. Each movement was getting slightly easier, though it was still a struggle. He tugged slightly on her hand, bringing her face down to his level. Her long hair brushed the sides of his face when she leaned over, tickling him, and he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the feel of it, the smell of her, against him.
He didn't look up as the door opened and Colin and Finn chose that moment to enter, still whispering and giggling madly. "We couldn't find exactly what we wanted," Colin announced to Rory, not looking at her.
"But we found the next best thing," Finn finished for him, unfurling the poster he had in his hand. Rory sat up straight, clearing his line of vision, too, and Logan could see her shoulders shake as she registered the sight. Finn held it up against the wall, revealing a long poster—it was almost as tall as Finn himself—of Alyssa Milano.
"It's from her Charmed days," Colin said disappointedly, "so she's Phoebe, not Samantha, but I don't think Logan will mind that much."
Rory squeezed Logan's hand gently, her eyes twinkling. "I don't know...why don't you ask him?"
Finn stopped in mid-motion, one corner of the poster slowly curling back down, as the significance of Rory's words hit him before it did Colin. "Wha..." he started to say, the word trailing off as Logan caught his eye and attempted to wink. Finn's face paled, but the color quickly returned as a grin played at the corner of his mouth.
Rory was still holding Colin's gaze, amused at his cluelessness, and finally, she motioned over to Logan's face with her eyes, signaling with her glance where she wanted Colin to look. His eyes followed hers, and Logan would have laughed out loud, if it didn't hurt so much, at how wide they got when they met his. Instead, he chuckled dryly at Colin's confused expression. "Hey, buddy," he said, his throat raw.
Finn finally let out a whoop and dropped the poster, leaping to the side of the bed. "Mate!" he exclaimed, his hand landing to rest on Logan's shoulder.
"I'll be back," Rory announced to the group. "I'm going to go get the doctor." Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, "I'll let you have your time with the guys." She squeezed Logan's hand once more and kissed him lightly on the cheek before she walked out.
Logan watched her leave, then turned his attention back to Colin, who was still standing near the door, a shocked expression on his face. "Hey—you okay?" His eyes had adjusted to the light, and his mouth felt a little less dry. Come to think of it, this entire feeling was just like the world's worst hangover.
Colin dissolved into mirthless laughter, sinking to the floor. "Me? Am I okay? Yes, I'm fine."
Logan wrinkled his forehead, looking at his friend. What the hell was up with Colin? Had he lost his mind? "What..." he trailed off, unable to form a complete sentence.
Colin shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing. It's—it's fine." He scooted backward, leaning against the wall next to the open door.
Logan wasn't convinced, but before he could press the issue, Finn jumped in, breaking the sudden tension in the room. "I've got a brilliant idea. The day you come home, we'll throw a big blowout. Bigger than big. The theme will be injuries. Come as your favorite invalid. Everyone must have bandages, crutches, anything. No perfectly healthy people will be admitted. How's that sound?"
Colin grinned across the room. "Perfect. Finn, you can come as a drunk bum."
Logan peered at Colin, giving him a questionable look—there was something about his tone that was off. They were joking about parties and themes and drinking, and it was the same as always, but it...wasn't. Colin's gaze was focused on the distant wall, refusing to look at Logan. "Colin—" Logan began.
Colin scrambled to his feet. "I'll be back," he quickly cut off Logan. "I gotta go."
"What was that all about?" Logan asked, slightly frustrated with his inability to do, well, anything besides lie flat on the bed, but still overwhelmed at all this information, knowledge, realizations, all coming at him at once.
Finn shrugged, pulling up the chair that Rory had been sitting. "Dunno. But tell us—what's it like on the other side? Was there a bright, white light? Were there redheads?"
"Only in your heaven, Finn," Logan grinned, beginning to feel like his brain was starting to un-fog a little bit, like those moments after waking up from a nap, trying to shake the disorientation and the feeling that time and space were somehow more fluid than he thought they were. His mind struggled to focus on a piece of information that Rory had told him earlier—even though she'd explained it, it still felt like part of the dream. "So you're living with Rory?" he asked hoarsely. "Trying to move in on my girl?"
Finn leaned back, stretching his long legs out so his feet were poked under the bed, and laughed. "A week unconscious, and that's your first thought when you wake up? Not, 'I'm so glad that my time in Finn's life isn't over just yet,' but 'What's he doing with my girl?' You've got it worse than I thought, mate."
Logan tried to give Finn the evil eye, but failed miserably, his finer muscle skills still not responding to his brain's commands. Instead, he gave a tired smile, and cleared his throat as best he could, trying to make his voice stronger. "You've been looking after her?" Finn nodded. "She's been looking after you?" Logan continued, and Finn nodded again, and this time, Logan could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Good," he said, trying to convey all his sincerity and gratitude into that one word, letting his head drop back slightly against the pillow again.
"Everything's good," Finn affirmed, leaning forward.
Rory burst into the room, talking on her cell phone, followed closely by the doctor, Colin entering a few seconds later, his eyes suspiciously red. Finn started to get up and give Rory the seat, but she shook her head at him, still listening intently to whoever was on the other line, and sat just on the edge of Logan's bed, near the top, as the doctor began talking to him. "It's Honor again," she whispered, trying not to distract him from the doctor's questions and instructions. "She wants to talk to you as soon as the doctor's done."
When the doctor was finished, Logan started to reach for the phone, but he didn't get very far before Rory swatted his hand down and held the phone up to his ear. "Honor?" he said, his voice still scratchy.
For a few seconds, all he heard was sobbing on the other end. He winced slightly, imagining the verbal abuse about to come. "I'm so glad you're awake!" his sister finally cried, her voice thick and watery. "I'm so mad at you!"
"Honor, I..." Logan started, but stopped, realizing he had no defense.
"I'm on my way over there right now; I'll be there in ten minutes." Honor sniffed loudly. "Do you know what you put all of us through? I just..." she paused, and Logan heard plastic rustling. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't go anywhere," she told him, then laughed weakly.
Logan closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed at all the activity going on around him. He was just so tired, which was ironic, considering everyone was telling him he had been doing nothing but sleeping for a week. "Sleep brings sleep," he remembered someone saying to him once. Who was it? He tried to reach back into his mind and figure it out, but that was just making him more tired.
"Are you all right?" he heard Rory ask through the haze in his mind, at the same time as Honor was calling his name, and it sounded as if they were both miles away. He felt Rory's cool hand on his cheek and managed a weak smile, inclining his head a fraction of an inch, just to let her know he was still with her—the one thing he was fully aware of was storm of emotion—from elation to concern to relief and now worry—that was continually filling her eyes, and he wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't. Not yet. All he could do was meet her eyes and hope that his spoke for him.
Rory took the phone out of his hand, relieving him from the conversation. "Honor, we'll see you when you get here..." She kept talking, still sitting beside him, but he no longer heard her. It was too much of an effort to stay focused for so long.
Then she was back, right by his side, perched on the edge of the bed, her hand in his—right where it belonged, and Logan let his eyes drift shut again.
