Pretend

by Republic of Yolossia

When they're five, Logan teaches Eduard how to pretend. He finds it comes in handy later in life.

8. My Dumbness is Genuine

LAST CHAPTER BABEY! There's an epilogue too but other than that! Shit! It's DONE! I'm gonna miss writing this thing.

TW: Suicide, violence, drugs (with a lot of discussion of addiction), animal death mention

Names:

João - Portugal

Josefina - Pontinha (OC)

---

They were 30 when they first kissed.

It was almost surreal. The product of a million little daydreams, stupid teenage fantasies about each other, about weddings, about sex, about spending every morning and evening together, culminating in one perfect moment.

But for every perfect moment, there is the moment after. The night spent facing away from each other, facing what they'd done in the quiet of the night. The morning after, neither looking the other in the eye, both of them focusing on getting the kids out of the house so they didn't have to say a word to each other. Reilly managed to manoeuvre their wheelchair right into Harry when she had the last piece of toast.

Harry cycled up to her school and Logan walked Reilly up to theirs. Eduard got the train to work. He didn't talk to Jānis and he half-assed his coding. His brain was going a hundred miles an hour on all the wrong things. On Logan. Beautiful Logan. Who he had kissed. For god knows what reason.

He was doing it again, he knew it full well. Putting his heart out there for whoever wanted to use it. And where had that got him? Worn down, battered, scarred like a bad guy from a shitty action film.

And yet he knew Logan. He knew he'd never hurt him. Or at least, he hadn't. Yet. After what he did, he wouldn't blame him if he was tempted. If he wanted to beat him the way he was asking for. Use every bit of love he was giving out to soak him dry all over again. Eduard was just... wrong. Everything about him was. And he certainly didn't deserve someone like him.

He'd ruined everything. Good. He'd earned everything he had brought upon himself.

---

"Mum!" Logan knocked on the door frantically. Kids were at school, and he'd told Eduard he was gonna be out for a few hours. He always felt guilty, leaving Eduard alone in the house, and he considered telling Tino or Lyubov to go and keep him company, but they'd be at work. And he had Mewie.

She came to the door. "Loggie! So nice of you to drop in, dear, come in! Allirea and I have been baking!"

Logan smiled and followed her into the kitchen, where his sister was icing cupcakes.

"She's been stressing over her exams," Layla explained, "We're taking a break. A much needed one."

Logan smiled; she used to do the same for him and Eduard. It generally took a lot of convincing on Ed's part, though, but he soon got into it. He loved cooking for his family, particularly Layla. He'd always been pretty attached to her, even as a child. Up until he was 12, he'd follow her everywhere, clinging to her skirt and waiting for her to get the message that he wanted a cuddle, but was too scared to ask. She still loved him like her own kids, even after his absence over the last few years.

"So good to see you, mum," he cuddled up to her as they watched Allirea work. "I need your advice."

Layla sighed. "If you've gotten someone pregnant agai-"

"What? No, no, I… it's about Eddie."

She immediately changed her tone. "Eddie? Oh, god, is he okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's… well, he's Eddie, he's not okay , but just in the normal sense. Nothing happened. Or… something did. But-"

"Logan."

He breathed. "I kissed him, mum."

Layla nodded, sinking into the kitchen chair with a cheeky smile on her face. "Took you long enough."

"Huh?"

She spread her hands. "Just saying, I've been listening to it for nearly 20 years, now. It's given me grey hairs. So, are you a thing now? When are you getting married? I want Eddie to be my son for real."

"Mum!"

"Sorry, sorry. He's always been my baby. So, what's the matter, dear? You've liked him for so long, I would've thought you'd be relieved."

"I- how'd you know?"

She chuckled. "The way you talk about him. The way you've always talked about him. Even when you were with…" She trailed off.

"Mum, you're allowed to say their name, I'm not gonna start crying. It's been nearly two years now."

"So it has. Anniversary's coming up."

He grimaced. "It is. Hate anniversaries. What am I meant to do, throw a fucking party?"

"That's not why you hate them."

"No. It's not."

"Is that why you're worried about the kiss? Huna?"

He nodded.

"I can't tell you when to be ready, dear. I mean, it could be a month after, it could be a decade, it could be… it could be two years. That's your call."

"What do you think Huna would say?"

"You tell me. Nobody knew them like you did."

"I mean… they were okay with the idea of me dating him while we were together. Sort of a… polyamory thing, if Ed was okay with it. But it's different now. That was when they were alive."

Layla blinked. "Would they want you to move on?"

"Nah. They'd want me wailing and wearing black and pining in my chambers for the rest of my life."

"I don't think they would. I think you should go for it if you feel ready."

"What if Ed doesn't?"

Layla chuckled.

"What?"

"It's been right in front of you all these years."

"Muuuuum!"

"Looking you right in the face."

"For fuck's sake, mum-"

"Talk to him."

"I do talk to him!"

"Not where it matters. Make sure he's comfortable. Make sure he knows how you feel about it too."

"…Did you just solve this whole thing that easily?"

"I did." She put her hands on her hips. "I'm your mother; I'm always very smart. Also it's rule one. Talk to him."

"But it's scary," he whined.

"I know, but you have to do it. And it can't be as scary as everything else you've been through."

Logan nodded. But what if it had been a mistake, their kiss? What if Eduard didn't actually feel the same way and he'd just been tired, and now Logan's biggest secret was revealed. And now things would be weird and Eduard wouldn't want to be around him, but there was nowhere else he could go and they'd be stuck together until things hopefully became less awkward.

Was this what it was like to be Eduard?

"What if I just… didn't?"

"Didn't?"

"Didn't talk to him. Left things as they are."

"Do you like how they are?"

He grimaced, considering the way Ed kept his eyes on the floor the past few days, avoiding his gaze. He looked scared, sometimes. More than usual.

"It's the only way to change it. You know that."

"What about the kids?"

"What about them?"

"I mean, won't it be weird for them? I know he already lives with us, but, what if they get upset? Like I've replaced a parent."

"You don't have to tell them right away. And besides, you do everything for those kids. Sometimes it's good to be selfish once in a while. You two of all people deserve it."

He dithered. "I'll think about it?"

"That's probably the best thing for you to do."

"Thanks. I… sorry for bothering you with all this. Usually I just go talk to Huna, but I feel like I need a second opinion."

"To Huna?"

"Y'know, at their grave." He smiled. "They give good advice. Sometimes."

Layla squeezed him tight. "I'm always here to help. No matter how big you get, you're always my little boy."

"Thanks mum."

"Now go help Allirea ice those cupcakes. It's therapeutic."

---

"Hey Ed," Logan began, pouring cat food into Mewie's bowl, whilst holding the kitten back by his forehead. Mewie, meanwhile, was desperate for a chicken gel bukkake and cried dramatically when it was denied to him. "Can we talk?"

Eduard closed the door behind him, already in full panic mode.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh- no, no, mate, you're not in trouble. Just the… well, you know, the…"

That didn't seem to reassure him. "I- I don't have time right now."

"What're you doing?"

"Gotta… go… Mewie! Feed Mewie!" He shoved the door back open and sprinted upstairs. It was strange, how much energy he had sometimes.

Logan looked down at Mewie and sighed.

---

He wouldn't budge. He avoided Logan as much as he could, but life went on. He was writing something into the family calendar. To get around Eduard's illegible handwriting and Logan's dyslexia, they had to resort to a system: deadlines in red pen, Harry and Reilly's term dates in orange, social events in green, and anything else in blue. They'd used it in university. It hadn't failed them yet.

"Ed, can we just-"

"I have to go!" Eduard dropped his pen, every cell in his body screaming to run. "Important work! Computers and stuff."

Logan watched the door slam shut.

---

"Hey, dinner's ready," he said softly, from the other side of his and Eduard's door.

"Not hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day, mate."

"Yeah, I'll- I'll fix something later, alright, just go eat."

"I promise I won't bring up what happened," he tried.

"I don't want to see anyone. I'm not hungry. Please, Logan. Leave me alone."

He lingered at the door. He could respect him wanting to be alone - he usually did - but he wasn't sure Ed wanted to be alone as much as he wanted to avoid things. "Do you want me to bring up some food for you?"

"I'm fine."

Logan sighed, and accepted Eduard didn't want to talk. It didn't matter what he thought or wanted, because it was making Eduard uncomfortable. He decided that was okay. He wanted him to be comfortable. He wanted to help.

It was selfish to tell him how he felt. Eduard didn't need that. He needed a friend and stability and Logan could go and pine to himself like he always did. He could drop the subject and hope their friendship wasn't ruined. Nothing had done that so far, not arguments, not even six years of separation, but Eduard hadn't known how Logan felt before. Maybe this was more than he could handle. More than he would handle. Maybe he'd run from him, leave him alone, with nobody to think about but his kids and himself. He didn't like thinking about himself. It always left him feeling a little sad.

He went downstairs to eat. Maybe this was just the way things were now.

---

As he heard the distant sound of Logan's snoring, Eduard knew he'd be uninterrupted.

He tipped out the contents of a little plastic ziploc bag and scraped it into a line.

This was it, the tipping point. No going back, only forward. Up and up, or down and down into the ground. There was nothing left for him on earth. He might as well stop taking up space.

He snorted the lot and tilted back his head, taking a mockingly satisfied breath. He wiped the powder from his nose.

"Fuck."

There was nothing left.

He could do it. He could do it right now and no one would know until it was too late. He left the bathroom and crept past Logan's room - still Logan's room, no matter how long he'd been sleeping there. Logan's house, Logan's kids. He was just a parasite.

He slipped his coat on, leaving his keys and phone behind. He was doing this. He'd figure out how along the way. Right now there was blood in his ears and air in his lungs and a lot of cocaine in his system. Right now he was free. At peace.

Logan wouldn't be hurt. Logan had been looking to kick him out for over a year now. He may as well give him a reason to stop tiptoeing around the subject. He didn't need him anymore either - he wasn't helpful to anyone. And after what he did, he'd burnt the bridge forever.

When he stepped outside the air was freezing on his skin, refreshing and chilling, waking him up. He ran on, aimlessly, dancing in the middle of the road and walking along walls. If he felt himself come down for even a moment, he'd allow himself a refill, scooping it out of the bag in his pocket with a finger and snorting on the go.

He didn't know why he found himself at Gunner's place, but there he was. He climbed in through the broken window and sat on the dusty carpet. Gunner had nailed wooden planks over the window frame, but someone had torn them down. He traced circles and shapes in the dust, before wiping them away. Anything decent had either been broken, burgled, or rescued by Logan.

He hadn't been there in years, but the happy memories still shone fresh: the table Gunner had smashed him into, the armchair Gunner would sit and drink beer and throw things at Ed from. The corner where he'd been shoved up against the wall and-

The print of his head was still in the plaster. Eduard didn't know why he was here.

Still, if his body had brought him here it must've been for a reason, even if the reason was to fill him with so many memories as his skin crawled and his brain went on autopilot, replaying it all.

Just outside the window, he saw Gunner's car.

He had read a WikiHow article on stealing cars before, but he couldn't remember a word of it. He was pretty sure he'd read that hotwiring wasn't as effective in real life as it was in the movies. The steering stayed locked.

He remembered that Gunner left his keys in a bowl by the door. That worked.

He picked himself up, brushed himself off, and grabbed the keys. He could already feel it wearing off. He took another line, straight off the shelf, then got himself into the driver's seat.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever even driven this car, but he distinctly remembered being threatened with the cigarette lighter. Who even used those anymore? USB ports were way more useful.

It was his car now. He could do what he wanted. He ripped the lighter out and threw it through the window, revving the engine and thundering out onto the street. He could do anything. He could put on music, whatever song he wanted, who was to stop him? He leaned over and scrambled through the CDs in the glove box, slapping on Studio Killers and screeching along the road. He didn't know where he was going, but he was hoping he'd hit something along the way. Not a living thing - he'd never forgive himself - but a tree or wall would do nicely.

He was so coked up, he'd forgotten this was how Hunapo had died - right through the windshield among the tarmac and steel and petrol and rubber. He didn't realise it would mess Logan up even more, all that mattered was not being around to bother him anymore.

The speed picked up, already well over the limit. He'd go the same way. He didn't care. He laughed like he'd never been known to laugh before, crazed and loud, a hair's breadth from crying. His hands left the wheel, hovering in the air, one putting up the volume to full, one right out of the window, catching the air, the cold night rushing through his fingers. The car could take him where it wanted. It was freeing in its way.

A revelation forced his hands back down moments before he plowed right into the front of a house.

The reservoir. The reservoir would do nicely.

He turned the car around and sped in the opposite direction. He could drown in that seemingly bottomless water and leave the world be.

The car pulled off the road and onto the grassy bank, not bothering to cut the engine as he looked out the window. He put his foot down on the pedal as far as it would go, watching the speed dial go up and up and up, leaving tire tracks in the dirt, laughing and crying the whole while. The water stretched out endlessly before him, coming closer and closer, faster and faster, until the violent splash of the car into the water cut through the music.

The water rose over the windshield, a growing wall of murky grey-green. It was hypnotic to watch. Almost calming to feel himself consumed by the water. It rushed in through the wide open windows, cascading onto his lap, up to his ankles, fresh and cold and dirty. Too slow - he reached over to wind down the backseat windows too. Much better. It filled up bit by bit, covering his lap, chilling him to the bone, fucking with the radio. Bits of car debris floated in the water, wrappers and crumbs and scraps of paper, rising around him, up to his waist, up to his chest.

He didn't put his head under. He waited for it to force him down, to rise over his head. He leaned back against the seats and waited. It was quiet. Nothing but the rush of water and the muffled tune of "Jenny" over water-damaged speakers. He reached through the water to pause it. Now that everything was stilling, it felt right to die silently. There was something sort of sobering about it.

What would Logan think? Would he even find him, or would he stay missing until there were nothing but bones and an old rusted car at the bottom of the reservoir? Maybe that way was better. He wouldn't want him to have to see the body. Maybe he'd search. Probably he wouldn't. Probably he'd let him stay missing. That was what he'd do in Logan's shoes, anyway. That was the death he deserved. Maybe Gunner would find out. Maybe he'd be happy. Maybe he'd be sorry. Who was to say?

He wasn't laughing anymore. Or crying for that matter. The water rose over his chin but he just kept his eyes on the ceiling, waiting as it covered his mouth and nose and eyes, the car totally full, still sinking, slowly but surely.

He'd never really considered the idea of anything beyond. It all seemed a little stupid to him. But if there was, he'd miss them. Maybe they'd miss him too. Maybe not. Nobody would grieve him the way they all grieved Hunapo, that was for sure. Hunapo was kind. They liked helping people. They'd been full of life, enjoying every minute of it. No one could bring them down. There were no photos of him to hide in the attic.

When had he left the car?

He was out in the open water, squinting through the murk. His body had taken over. He was swimming and swimming, aiming like a dart at the surface, though he wasn't sure which way was up.

He saw the moon, filtering green through the water. It ran through him, water in his eyes, in his ears, in his mouth. In his lungs. He smiled. Then it all went black.

---

What's that?

What?

Look here. My side. Oh, shit. Alin, it's a guy, he's-

Can you hear me?

Do you think he'd fucking answer you if he could?

Right, right. Okay. Do you think someone used the reservoir to get rid of a body?

I doubt it.

You think he's alive?

I don't know.

I hope he is.

Then fucking help me!

Help?

Help me get him onto the canoe!

Sorry, sorry.

You get the legs. One, two-

Three! Is he okay?

Guess.

Does he have a heartbeat? Fucking hell, Tsvetan, turn off the grumpy for two seconds.

...Yeah. Yeah, he's alive. Come on, row fast. We need to get this guy to an ambulance. You know CPR, right?

Well, yeah, but if I do it on this fucking thing we'll capsize. It's made for two people.

Okay, okay, just phone 999 and we'll sort him out when we get to shore.

---

"Eddie! Oh my God, you're okay!"

Logan rushed into the ward and pulled him into a hug. Well, this was it, Eduard thought, the end of the road. He'd do it properly next time. He wouldn't have a choice once he was kicked out.

Still, he wrapped his arms around Logan's neck. He would miss him. Logan was warm, warmer than anything he'd touched since he'd been underwater, and Eduard couldn't bring himself to let go, not until he'd started crying. Logan was too, though. He didn't know why; it wouldn't have been that much of a loss if he had died.

He wished he had. He hated seeing Logan so upset, and he hadn't looked this miserable since Huna died.

"What happened?"

Eduard shrugged. "Drowned." His voice came out all croaky.

"You drowned?"

He nodded.

A nurse came in to see to him. "He won't say much. A pair of rowers found him in the reservoir, not even an hour ago. Are you a close relative?"

"I'm his… roommate. Whatever happened, you can tell me, right? Or do you need my parents? They're basically his family; he doesn't have anything else in the way of it." He tried to speak low, out of earshot, but he wasn't sure if Eduard heard. He wasn't looking. His eyes were fixed firmly on the ceiling.

"He put you as his emergency contact, so I think it's best you know. Is that alright, Mr Mets?"

Eduard nodded. Might as well get this over with.

"We found large amounts of cocaine in his system and tire tracks leading into the water. Mr Mets confirmed it was a suicide attempt."

Logan stopped in his tracks. "Ed…"

When Eduard finally spoke, it came out in a jumble of words. "I'm sorry, I'll-I'll move out as soon as I can, as far away as you want me to, I-"

"Why would you move out? Where are you going?" He looked horrified at that, "do you need to stay in hospital?"

Eduard blinked. "You're not kicking me out?"

"What? No. No, mate, of course not."

"I did cocaine!"

"I know. And I want to know why, and stuff, but I'm not kicking you out. God, no."

"Logan-"

Logan looked up at the nurse. "Can you give us a moment?"

"Of course."

Logan sat down on the bed, next to Eduard. Of course. You don't want to blow up in front of someone, or they ask questions. He tensed, ready for the explosion, the yelling, the fists flying.

Instead his voice was soft. Tremulous. He would've preferred to be throttled within an inch of his life.

"You tried to kill yourself?"

He didn't know what he was meant to say.

"Mate, talk to me."

"I'm alive, aren't I?" He didn't sound pleased about it.

"Ed."

"Yes. I stole Gunner's car and drove it in."

"And you were-"

"High, yes."

Logan looked heartbroken. "Jesus fuck, Ed."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's…" He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. "How long have you been using?"

"Months."

"Why? How?"

"Too much of a weenie to shoot heroin," he replied, "I don't like needles."

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eddie."

"I just… I don't know."

"You can talk to me."

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was still a little damp. "I wanted it to kill me, is that what you wanted to hear? And I got bored waiting. So here I am."

He nodded. "Fucking hell, Ed."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, I understand. You haven't had an easy few years. Or… life."

"But I shouldn't be putting you through this, or the kids. I tried to keep it away from you, not get you involved or leave any of the stuff where the kids could find it. I never even brought Lars back to the house, I promise." It didn't matter how well he hid the drugs, Eduard realised; the kids could still have found them. Thought it was sugar or medicine or something and eaten it. Reilly put everything in their mouth. And it would've probably killed them, and Logan would've lost another family member and it would've been all Eduard's fault and Logan would know, he would know he was worthless, he would know he was destructive and toxic and a waste of his time.

"Lars sold you the drugs?" Logan raised an eyebrow, "Gunner's mate?"

"What? Yeah. Yeah. He said he wanted to make it up to me, sold me the good stuff."

"And where does Lars live?" said Logan, in a way that told Eduard Lars was getting a black eye. And stitches.

"Logan, no."

"He hurt you!"

"I hurt me! You think he force-fed me the drugs?"

"Mate, if he cared even a little bit about you - about anyone for that matter - he wouldn't have sold coke in the first place. I mean, especially not to you. Not knowing what happened to you, what that would've done to you. Not knowing you'd get addicted and have to keep buying off him."

"It's his job. People sell drugs all the time."

"Doesn't make it right."

"Well, what does it matter? I'm a grown man. I can do cocaine if I want."

"I mean, for starters, it's illegal. And for another: you were using it to kill yourself . I mean… that's big. I guess now you can start getting help? No idea why you weren't offered any counselling last time you were here."

"I was, I just turned it down." Logan was trying, Eduard could see it. He was trying his best to be understanding, to not get mad and kick him out, but no one could stand Eduard for long.

Logan nodded. "Why?"

Eduard shrugged. "I'm not getting better."

"Ed…"

"Don't say my name like that," he snapped, "It doesn't help. It's just..."

Logan nodded. "Do you want me to stop talking?"

"Do what you want."

"This isn't about me."

"Well, I-I want you to be honest with me."

"How so?"

"You're trying not to be angry. You shouldn't."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Eduard scoffed. "Why wouldn't you? You care for me so much and all I do is take and take and… why carry on?"

"Because I love you, Ed."

He almost laughed. "Logan…"

"I do!"

"Don't-"

"No, we're doing this." Logan squeezed his hand. "I'm done tiptoeing around it. I love you. You're my best friend and I don't want to imagine a life without you. Ever. And it breaks my heart to see the way you treat yourself, but this isn't how you fix it. You're not a burden. You're never a burden. You're my best friend and you're so much more. And that night…"

"That was stupid."

"No, it wasn't. You're never stupid. You kissed me and everything felt… good. 'Cause I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since we were kids. And I want to be here for you."

"You deserve better. Someone not..." he gestured at himself.

"There's nobody better, and if there was I wouldn't want them. You're not just good things and bad things. You're you . You're a baker. You're a pianist. You're kind. You're tough. You're a mess and so am I, but you make everything make an ounce of sense. And I value our friendship more than anything. And if you're not ready, or if you don't feel the same way, I… I don't want to ever stop being your friend, if I haven't ruined it, that is."

Eduard watched his face for a long moment, bringing himself up to sit up in the hospital bed. When they rested on Logan's cheeks, his hands were still cold, either from the water or his own poor circulation. So were his lips, when he kissed him, chapped but gentle. Maybe he kissed him slowly. Maybe the moment just lasted a lifetime. But when he pulled away, he was smiling, really smiling , in spite of it all.

"Ruin it," he replied, "By all means."

Logan laughed. His eyes creased and his shoulders shook, his hand finding Eduard's and holding it tight. Eduard laughed too, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

"Not quite the romantic confession I dreamed about when I was 12," he admitted.

"No?"

"Well, we weren't 30, for a start. Or in a hospital."

Logan chuckled. "We're so fucking bad at this. 12?"

"Don't look at me like that!"

"No, no, I- me too. Just, you had a crush on me. You loser."

"You had a crush on me! God, Logan. You big nerd."

They sat together in quiet laughter for a good few seconds. Outside the room was machinery and chatter, but it faded into the background. Moments like these, everything could've been okay. They could've been kids, sitting together on top of the monkey bars in the park, sharing peanut M&Ms from the corner shop, the sun on their backs, with the summer holiday ahead looking like the biggest thing in the world.

Then the overthinking came down on him like an anvil.

"You're not just saying this because you're scared I'll kill myself, right?"

"Course not. I'd never do that to you."

"You wouldn't?"

"No. But… you won't, will you?"

"No. I don't think I will." It was always harder to tell when even Eduard didn't know if he was lying.

"Being alive isn't so bad, is it? Not once you find the right people to be alive with, at least."

Eduard took Logan's hand and kissed it, cold lips on his knuckles. "It has its moments."

"If… we don't have to do anything, or be anything, if you're not ready. I mean, you've been through a lot, I can wait."

Eduard nodded. Was he ready? It was nearly two decades too late, and Logan clearly wanted a relationship, but he wasn't quite sure. He was an anxious, fucked-up cokehead, lying in hospital after a suicide attempt, because he couldn't even get that right. He didn't want Logan to resent him. At least, not any more than he already did.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready," he admitted, "so we might as well try."

Logan took his hand, rubbing his knuckles with a thumb. "I'm not going to leave you, y'know. I'm not giving up on you. Even if this doesn't work out, I'll always be your best friend."

"I know."

"Do you?"

He paused. "No."

"Well, anyway, I'm here for you. I'm always gonna be here for you."

Eduard nodded, and teared up. Logan pulled him into a hug, letting him nestle into his chest. Eduard folded his skinny limbs up, careful not to knock the cannula in his arm. Logan was warm, and sturdy, and the one place Eduard could feel safe. He had always prided himself on being used to the cold, but he was still shivering from the lake.

Logan kissed the top of his head and rubbed his arms to warm them up.

"I don't know how long you'll be staying here," he said, "but when you come home, I'll have a nice dinner, and clean sheets, and arms."

"Nah, chances are I'm going to prison. Knowing my luck, Gunner will be my cellmate."

"I'm not gonna let that happen," he kissed the top of Eduard's head. "We'll find a way."

"But-"

"It'll be fine. Things are gonna be good from now on." He stroked Eduard's hair, and tucked him into bed. "Wanna know why? Cause we're together, and things turn out okay when we're together."

Eduard didn't have the strength to argue, so he just nodded as Logan kissed his forehead.

---

Logan didn't demand that Eduard's whole life revolved around him, and that baffled him. He didn't expect him to drop everything, to not talk to anyone except him. These were just things Eduard assumed were part of a relationship. They'd never been part of his and Lyubov's relationship, but he assumed she'd always gone out of her way to be extra nice, probably out of pity. Or that they were just students, immature and unsure of how the world worked, making it up as they went along.

Logan treated him just like Lyubov did, and he wasn't sure he liked it. He was cautious, soft, like Ed was breakable. At least Lyubov, both then and now, was just as gentle with everyone else. He could put it down to her nature. But Logan was always loud and bright, practically glowing with energy. It was weird to see him soft.

Eduard supposed he'd take Logan's tiptoeing over Gunner's abuse, but, as much as he loved him, and felt safe around him, he had to wonder if he was going to live forever with a huge sign above his head saying "broken". He didn't want sudden noises and movements, but he wasn't sure everyone treating him like he was glass was better.

Telling Layla and Logan Sr was the worst.

Logan had sworn they wouldn't make a big deal of it, but Layla cried as much as the last time, clutching him and wailing onto his chest. Logan Sr made sure to mention they'd not bothered telling Anton or Eliisabet, whilst looking like he was trying not to cry. He held onto Eduard and Layla, promising that if ever he wanted to talk, he would be there.

He and Logan decided not to tell anyone else.

The mental health specialists that interviewed him weren't happy to let him go. They wanted to section him for a month, and Logan was inclined to agree - if he was being monitored in hospital, he couldn't hurt himself or do coke - but Eduard just wanted to be home, in his warm bed and Logan's arms. He missed the kids and Mewie. He said he wouldn't do anything, just as long as he could see them. He was almost begging. Logan was easily convinced to bring him home, though Eduard could tell he was scared of another suicide attempt.

Eduard didn't know if he would. He wanted to. But he also wanted not to want to. He saw Logan's face in the hospital every time he blinked. He wondered if he'd be willing to stay alive just to stop him from looking like that ever again.

He also didn't want to see himself hurt, deep down. That primal urge to keep himself alive and safe, despite barely remembering what that felt like, made him wary. Would Logan turn against him like Gunner did? Did he just have that effect on people?

But maybe he could get used to the idea that Logan wasn't like Gunner. That he was caring and kind and- oh, of course he was, but was that what Eduard deserved? Logan seemed to think so, and, in their own way, things were okay around him. There was something that looked like happiness in Eduard's life.

It gave Eduard time to fret about whether or not he'd get in trouble.

He was going to prison. He was going to be left in a building with, if not Gunner himself, then a lot of men who thought and acted like him. And they'd just be left to hurt him. He'd seen Shawshank Redemption.

He should've just died. He should've got it right the first time. He could always try again, he supposed, but Logan watched him carefully. He hid things in the house, refusing to tell Eduard where he kept bleach or knives or rope. He wouldn't stop him going out, but he always wanted to know where he was going. Eduard could never lie to him. Every time he left the house Logan would tell him he loved him. He said it like he was terrified it was the last time he would get to. Eduard allowed himself the arrogance to speculate that maybe he really was.

---

Eduard could accept his driving ban and his community order, even the weighty fine he'd earned himself. He was just glad to have managed avoiding prison, and with it the chance of being trapped with Gunner again. But what he wasn't sure he liked was the fact that his community order included going to weekly Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Talking about his problems. Being around other people. Legally obligatory socialising.

He'd complained the whole car journey, Logan listening with amusement as he made his slow, nervous way to Eduard's first meeting.

"I mean, at least I don't have to be, like, an inpatient, but I mean… it's just gonna be some patronising old guy telling me to put my faith in a higher power. How's that gonna help?"

Logan smiled, stopping for the red light. "Yeah, I don't think God's gonna suddenly give a shit about us."

"If I ever meet this higher power, this Jesus or Allah or, like, Anubis, I'm gonna punch him."

"I think that's a fair reaction. I doubt you'd be the first. How come you only got done for high driving, by the way? Didn't you steal a car?"

"It's 'cause I'm white."

"That checks."

"Also because I didn't steal it."

"You kinda did."

"Nope."

"No?"

Ed chuckled. "My car. He bought it with my money. He did all the stealing."

Logan turned to him, grinning. "Wow. That's a loophole."

"Right?"

"And now you can just focus on getting better?"

Eduard deflated at that, prickling with guilt. "That's not… I'm not… I just… look, I think this is just how I'm meant to be."

"It's not."

"You can be as optimistic about it as you want, but-"

"No, I mean it. It's not." Logan squeezed his thigh. "Nobody's just built to be unhappy. You're a person, you're gonna be happy and you're gonna be sad, it's how it works."

"When am I gonna be happy?"

"I don't know. Guess you have to work harder for it. But you will."

"I'm not sure I want to work at that."

"Well, why not?"

"It's effort," he whined, "Can I not just turn it off and on again?"

"I don't think you can do that with humans. Though the doctor said you were briefly dead, so does that count?"

"Too briefly," he laughed. Logan didn't. "Joke."

"Please, baby, just…"

"-Try and take care of myself. I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I can't make you, I just wish it was easier for you. I know you're trying."

"But you want me to try harder."

"I mean… kind of. But I know you're doing your best."

Eduard grimaced. "No. You make a fair point. I'm just used to sitting back and waiting." He cracked a smile. "It's why I'm never happy."

He parked outside a church. "Ed, you can't just say that in a chipper tone of voice and expect me not to believe you."

He gave Logan a thumbs-up and stepped out of the car.

Logan leaned over, rolling down the window. "Hey!"

He stopped in his tracks and looked back at him.

"Good luck!"

Eduard blew him a kiss and stepped inside. The place was, at a glance, incredibly beige, except for photos of pastors and a Brownies group that he could only assume met up here, stuck up on a display board on a pale yellow wall. Through a glass door, he saw people sitting in lines of chairs, some chatting, some sipping cups of coffee. Only one person was in the foyer, a middle-aged man with an easy smile and a wavy ponytail. As Eduard walked in, he stood up straight from the table he was leaning on.

"Ah! You're new!"

Eduard nodded and shook his hand.

"Eduard, I assume?"

"Yeah. Is this the…" He trailed off. It felt embarrassing to say out loud.

"Narcotics Anonymous?"

He nodded.

"Indeed it is! Pleasure to meet you, Eduard, I'm João. And good job on getting help, It's the first step."

"Well, legally, I have to."

"Still counts! Anyway. We start in about ten minutes. Go through there, get yourself some coffee, get yourself a doughnut, make yourself comfy."

Eduard nodded graciously and stepped inside. He wasn't all that sure where to start. Conversation rang in the room, but only softly. On a white fold-out table was an assortment of identical white mugs, a few pots of coffee, a half-eaten box of Krispy Kremes, a jug of milk, and a bowl full of sugar sachets. He filled a mug from the milk jug, then tried to find a place in the big rectangular room where he could avoid people.

He found a vantage point in the corner and watched the room. Everyone seemed to have somebody to chat to. Even those who didn't at least seemed content with it. Was there anything worse than being the one person who didn't know anyone? He felt like the new kid in school, when everyone else already had an established friendship group without a place for one more.

"Ed?"

He flinched, almost throwing his milk onto his shirt. A woman was looking at him intensely, a few years younger than him. She had dark eyes and long, almost white hair. He took it back. He'd rather know nobody than vaguely know someone.

"Natalya?"

She'd been a teenager the last time he'd seen her, just visiting Lyubov's family for a weekend. She raised her pierced eyebrows at him. "Since when were you a crackhead?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Same thing as you." Irony and bitterness tinged her voice. "Getting clean."

"I didn't know you even…"

"Yep. Don't tell her." Natalya joined his side, leaning against the wall and sipping her coffee.

Eduard blinked. "Who, Lyubov?"

"Just don't, alright?"

"Right, right, sure thing."

Neither had another word to say to the other. Eduard grasped for something. "Why?"

"She thinks I'm sober."

A little obvious. "She does fuss."

"Tell me about it. You still talk?"

"Mm. We're friends."

"How is she?"

"Fine."

"Still got that old cat?"

"No, I- are you talking about Oksana?"

"Yeah, that old slut."

"She got hit by a car a year ago." He hadn't seen much of her - she had been Lyubov's baby for years, since she finished university, but he hadn't visited her enough in Oksana's short life.

"Oh, shit, really?"

"Did you not hear about it?"

Natalya shrugged.

"She told everyone. She was inconsolable."

"She's often inconsolable."

"Do you not talk any-"

"Look, man, I already have to go to these dumb fucking meetings, I don't need you going on about Luba too."

"Alright, fine."

They stood in silence for a moment.

"So, what-"

"Shut up, Ed."

"Right."

They went quiet again.

"Is this your first one?"

"Yeah."

"Nervous?"

He nodded.

"João's a real pushover. If you sprout him some shit about not being ready to talk about it, he'll let you off. The judge said I had to go here, she didn't say I had to participate."

"Thanks."

She shrugged.

"Do you… not participate?"

"I'm not getting any better."

Neither was he, really. Not in the foreseeable future. It had been days since his last line and he'd been shaking almost constantly since last night. "Well, my dealer got locked up. Which is… fair enough, I guess, but it's still like, what now? I have medication but it's not working."

"I can give you the number for mine if you want."

He thought about it. Logan would be heartbroken, leave him. Be mad at him.

But he'd been shaking for almost 24 hours now. He'd almost been sick just before he left.

"Go on then."

She snatched a napkin from the table and wrote a number on it. Eduard immediately felt guilty. But it was his fault for being so weak, so dependent on coke. If he was really worth it, he'd be able to give up, or never start, but he wasn't the man Logan or Harry deserved. He may as well go back. Logan didn't have to know.

"Don't tell old ponytail."

"I won't."

"I mean, he can't expect you to just go without, but he does."

"It's his job," Eduard pointed out, "You can't blame him."

"The man's a stick in the mud."

"He's nice though."

"Whatever." She put down her mug on the table. "Session's starting."

The room sat in a circle, some still holding coffees. Eduard decided he was going to keep very quiet.

"Traditionally," João told him, "You're supposed to talk at your first session."

Eduard panicked. He hated being put on the spot. "I-"

"You don't have to, though," João quickly added, "but you can if you want to."

Eduard shook his head. He wanted to run away.

"That's okay. We all have our limits."

"Thank you."

He met eyes with Natalya. She mimed gagging.

"Would anyone else like to start us off?"

---

Logan started on his famed chicken wings when they got home. He swayed his hips as he heated up oil in the pan, humming to himself. Eduard couldn't help but smile.

"What's the occasion?"

"Baby's first NA meeting."

He decided not to mention that he'd done nothing the whole time. "Chicken-worthy?"

"Course."

He forced a smile. "You need help?"

"I've got it. Take a seat. Relax, you've earned it."

He reluctantly obeyed, curling up on the sofa with his phone. He scrolled through his Twitter aimlessly, mostly to have something to do with his hands, but before he knew it, the smell of chicken was hitting him and Logan was stepping out of the kitchen to sit with him.

"Have you not moved from this spot this whole time?"

Eduard shrugged. "Comfortable."

The kids joined them, squeezed between the two adults chatting about their day. Eduard watched them, thinking about how much they'd grown, from screaming, alien-like babies who were still somehow adorable, to… well… Harry was in high school now. She looked so adult as she talked about her sudden interest in politics, no longer the baby dribbling on Logan's shoulder.

Now, he was going to vote for her in a few years, not least for accepting Reilly's suggestion of making bee-killing (beemicide, as Reilly put it) a crime. They discussed her political manifesto as they ate - from making the leap in the long battle for dogs' rights that allowed them to take places in government at last (although she admitted chihuahuas would make it an uphill battle) to making schools do more art lessons.

When the kids had gone back to their rooms, and they were left in peace, Logan took their plates and left them on the coffee table, much to Eduard's mild irritation, and cuddled up to him.

"I'm proud of you," he mumbled, "you're getting better. Doing stuff."

"But not drugs."

"Not drugs, no. Anti-drugs. Drugs Begone School."

"That's what I'm calling it from now on."

"The Cokeless College."

"Ehh."

"The Dejunkifier."

"Sounds like a circumcision machine that works too well." They both winced at the thought.

"Weird."

"Really weird."

Logan kissed his neck. "Yeah. Let's talk about something else. Anything else, really. Tell you what, how about you and I have a little fun, later?"

Eduard froze. "Fun?"

"To celebrate." He looked at him for a moment. "We don't have to, though. If you don't want-"

"I do," he said quickly. What he wanted was never a factor here, Gunner taught him that much. If Logan wanted him, he'd have to lie down and take it. That was how relationships worked. Sure, Logan wouldn't hit him, but that was an achievement worth rewarding in itself.

"Okay. Tonight, then? When the kids are in bed?"

Eduard nodded. There. He'd agreed. He couldn't take it back now.

---

Eduard could do this.

It would be with Logan , his sweet, gentle Logan would would never hurt him, who didn't think he was ready, but Eduard insisted he could to it. He wasn't too broken to sleep with his boyfriend, and surely he owed him this.

He managed to do it with Lyubov, back in uni. Of course, things had been different then. He'd been halfway to functional. Gunner hadn't been as violent, or frequent, the first time round. He'd never been beaten until he couldn't fight back, or had it used as a punishment. Not in high school, at least. It was just what passed for love with him.

Logan deserved it, for putting up with him. And he deserved it for putting Logan through everything.

So when Logan's lips found his neck and his hands found their way under his shirt, he kept quiet. Logan had said it was too soon, that he didn't think Eduard was ready - surely not - and that they didn't have to, but Eduard insisted. He could do this, because, if he didn't, he'd just be broken forever, and then what could he give Logan? He'd be nothing to him. Thrown to the curb. No good to anyone.

Hands pulled his shirt off his shoulders and lips danced gently over his collarbone. Logan was gentle, always so goddamn gentle, tender even as he struggled with Eduard's trousers and clumsily got his top off.

Hands clasped hands, and as he closed his eyes to blink they grabbed wrists and covered mouths and pinned him down. Logan would never hurt him, not if you forced him to, Ed knew that even now, but reality was blurring at the edges and Gunner's hands were on him, lips and fingertips and arms, teeth and nails and fists, and there was nothing he could do but go limp.

He couldn't help it! It was his defense mechanism: lying still, letting what happens happen, waiting for it to be over so he could lie there and cry. Putting up a fight never did him much good.

But Logan stopped.

He saw what Eduard was doing and stopped and held him and let him lie down.

"Oh my God, Eddie, I'm so sorry! We're stopping now, okay?" He stroked his hair, then pulled his hand away at Eduard's flinch. He just sat there, waiting for Eduard to start breathing and remember where he was.

They always kept a jug of water next to the bed, and Logan poured him a glass.

"I shoulda killed him," he muttered.

"It's fine," he whispered, ignoring the glass, or maybe not noticing it at all. "We- just… carry on. Don't mind me." Eduard tried to lie still as possible, like a body.

"What the fuck ? No! We're stopping, okay?" He held out the glass to him insistently. "We're not doing anything you're not okay with."

"I am okay with it, promise." But Logan shook his head. He held out his arms for Eduard, who cuddled into them. Okay, he was relieved. As guilty as it made him - Logan deserved it, after all, and who did he think he was to stop him? - he was relieved.

Logan looked at him, then punched a wall. Eduard flinched. This was it. Logan was gonna hurt him and it was his fault. He never had been good enough at pretending. Not for Logan.

"I should've killed him," he repeated through a clenched jaw, "I should've done everything he did to you and more."

Eduard had no idea how to respond. "You don't seem like a rapist. Like, if you're doing to him what he did..."

"I mean- fuck, not… that , I wouldn't sleep with him if he wanted to-"

"That's harsh coming from you."

"Rude. I just, fuck, I shoulda-"

"Killed him. I heard."

"Well, I should've!"

Eduard sighed. "Then you'd be the one in prison."

" Fuck prison!"

Eduard shrank away. It was so easy to get brave when it was just Logan.

"Fuck prison," he continued, "I should have…" He made a tight, brutal throttling motion with his hands. "Ugh!"

Eduard didn't dare move. If Logan couldn't hit Gunner, then he was the next best target. He'd always been a perfect punching bag, weak and easy to hurt. It was coming any second now, a blow, a slap. He closed his eyes. Gunner was going to hit him. Gunner was- no, Logan was going to hit him.

"Ed?"

He braced himself.

Logan lowered himself, crouching by the bed, face to face, and stroked his hair. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm here. I've got you."

"What?"

He brushed it out of his face. "I'm so sorry. But it's okay. You're safe. You're here. He can't hurt you."

"I'm safe," he murmured, "Yeah, I'm safe."

"Do you want your clothes?"

"Mm."

Logan rummaged around the bed to find Eduard's crumpled t-shirt. "Arms up."

Eduard tentatively lifted his arms.

"I'm with you," Logan murmured, putting each hand through each sleeve, "It's okay."

Eduard poked his head through the neckline. "I know."

"I'm never gonna hurt you." He straightened out the hem of the shirt, pulling it down.

"I know."

"Never."

"I know."

"Do you believe me or are you just saying that?"

Eduard was silent.

"It's okay. You don't have to. Just stay with me for a while."

He looked at Logan and reached out his arms. Logan cuddled him close, wrapping the blankets around both of them and kissing his forehead. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. You're safe. And you can say "no" whenever you want. As many times as you want. And we'll stop, no guilting, no compromise, just stopping. And I won't even start until I know it won't upset you, okay? Not even once."

Eduard nodded, but still felt bad. "Can I…"

"Jeans?"

"Yeah."

Logan passed his jeans over to him. As he stood up to get them on, a napkin fell out of his pocket. Eduard froze.

Logan picked it up and passed it to him, but he saw the number, scrawled on in Natalya's spider-like handwriting. Eduard screwed it up into his pocket.

"I, uh… made a friend. At the, um… drugs."

He was an awful liar.

"Ed."

"Uhh… yeah?"

"Ed."

Why did he ever try to lie to him? He never could. "I... did."

They looked at each other for a long second.

"...And she gave me her dealer's number."

Logan stared at him. He looked… disappointed. He knew in that moment that he'd messed up. He shrunk back but Logan just wrapped his arms around Eduard's shoulders. "Baby…"

"I-I just- I don't know why I even did it, I just… I want to be high again, I guess." He sighed. "Logan, this isn't working. There's no- no helping me anymore, okay?"

Logan kissed his forehead. "Nobody ever said it was gonna be fast."

"I've been to one meeting and I got a new dealer."

"Maybe the next one'll go better."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then you have the one after. It's not happening immediately, that's not how it works."

Eduard thought he would cry. "How do you do it? Be so understanding, and patient?"

He shrugged. "You're my best friend. I want you to be happy."

Eduard smiled. "Thanks."

---

The pictures of Hunapo came down from the attic.

Logan was still taking things as they came, but anyone could see the way the spring was coming back to his step. You could see it in the way he wiggled his shoulders as he came downstairs with the box, barely in time to the little radio playing to accompany the project. Harry gave him a chilling look as he sang along to Beyoncé with the least accurate lyrics possible, but he just grinned back at her. There was another dead giveaway: they had added a new colour to their calendar system. Black pen meant therapy. An "L" and an "E" penned in every week, with "NA" twice a month for Eduard's Narcotics Anonymous meetings. He still hadn't been able to say anything, but the listening was helpful enough.

Eduard took the box of photos off Logan and balanced them on the stairs. He helped put them back up, carefully arranging each frame onto each nail, lining up edges with where the paint remained faded.

"Looks good. Think we're done?"

Logan looked up at the wall, then back to Eduard. "Not yet."

"Sorry?"

Logan opened up his backpack and took out several more frames, each one empty, and a thick envelope full of photos. Eduard rifled through them.

Him and Logan, six years old, each of them in their swimming trunks, holding ice creams at the beach. Eduard could feel the sunburn and the sugar just looking at it.

Him and Logan, eight years old, sprawled on a picnic blanket, Jem leaning on Layla next to them with a grin on her face and half a strawberry in her hand. The four of them were surrounded with half-eaten biscuits and sandwiches and fruits, grinning at the camera, though Layla looked a little beyond it, gazing at the photographer himself.

Him and Logan, eleven years old, beaming behind a tray of brownies for the school's bake sale. There was flour and batter all over Logan's t-shirt and frosting around his lips.

Him and Logan, fourteen years old, outside the house on Halloween, Layla having painstakingly made up the two as skeletons. They'd decided never to get too old for it. Jem was next to them, smirking behind her werewolf mask, and Allirea was grinning out from underneath her witch hat.

Eduard had no idea what to make of all this. For one, he'd completely forgotten those photos existed. He vaguely remembered posing for them, but his parents always turned down Layla's offers of copies, to the point where she'd stopped asking. She'd sent them a graduation picture, but never heard back.

"You got all of these?"

Logan nodded.

He couldn't stop himself smiling as he looked through the photos. He'd been so small. "Why?"

"Just some stuff Matt said. I can't get over them if I keep pretending they don't exist. But also I can't get stuck in the past."

"So you're putting up pictures of us too?"

"Is that alright?"

"Yeah! Sounds like a good idea. Therapy's going good, then?"

He fumbled with the back of a picture frame. "Yeah, yeah, it's- fuck's sake."

Eduard took the frame off him and got the back off in moments. "Want me to do these?"

"Yeah, thanks. Production line."

Eduard put photos in frames as Logan hung each one up. "I'm glad Matt's helping."

"Yeah, he's good. He approves of us, I think."

He grinned at him. "Aww, you told your therapist about me?"

"Didn't you?"

"Yeah. She says you're good for me."

"So I don't have to fight your therapist in a duel for your hand in marriage. Great."

Eduard paused. "Would you?"

"Maybe."

He thought about it. He'd thought about getting married to Logan before, as a teen, in uni. It was never going to happen, but it had been nice to think about until the ache in his chest threatened to reduce him to tears.

When he was with Gunner, Eduard was too scared to even fantasize about Logan. Sometimes he wondered if Gunner could read his thoughts, then it became too much to even think about anything other than keeping him happy. Sometimes he still thought about it. He thought about breaking him out and moving back in with him. He hated it. The fact that he even considered it. He hated him, the piece of shit who left him the way he was, his arm still aching where he'd broken it.

But the thought of marrying Logan brought a different kind of guilt. Less logical. More of an ache, deep in him, like he was betraying Gunner. And he was. And he wanted to. He wanted to betray him, to hurt him, to leave him as bruised as he was. He wanted to let Gunner know he would never have control over him again.

And that scared him. He wasn't a violent person by any means. How was he better than Gunner if he tried so urgently to hurt him?

But the thought of marrying Logan wasn't meant to come from a place of spite. And the more he thought about it as he put photos into frames, the more it didn't. He could actually live with him, permanently. They could wake up together and kiss and take their kids to school.

They could be healthy together. Happy.

If he was going to try and be happy, then there was no place to do it better than by Logan's side.

---

Eduard filled his styrofoam cup from the milk jug and found his usual seat. The coffee machine still made him nervous, but he liked to have a drink, just so he had something to do with his hands. João, with his own coffee, took a seat next to him.

"Hey. You alright?"

"I'm well," he smiled, "It's good to see you. But I wanted to talk to you. I can't help noticing you never get up and speak in these meetings."

Eduard stammered. "I, uh, I'm sorry."

"Perfectly understandable, dear. I remember being in your shoes. Just… I know Natalya's prone to blowing the whole thing off. Try not to let that affect you too much. This place is here to help you."

"You went to these meetings?"

"Of course."

"So you were…"

"An addict, yes. And a bad one."

"But you're such a…" Eduard gestured vaguely. "A person."

"A person?"

"Functional. You can do stuff."

"You're a flatterer, Eduard."

He smiled at his knees. "Sorry. I-I get it."

"I wasn't always such a... person. I dare say you wouldn't recognise me if you saw me at your age. I was just… well, you know how it is. It was hard."

He knew how it was. Living onward for his next hit. "How did you get out of it?"

"Well, my wife left. That was a little wake-up call, so to speak. And then I found other things to live for. My family, for one. My brother. Mostly my daughter. Lord knows she suffered enough on my account. Once I started recovering, her mother let me see her on weekends. We built ourselves up to her staying with me every other week. The church was another factor. As sponsors go, you can't get much better than the Lord. Are you a religious man, Eduard?"

"Not really, no. Not at all, actually." He'd always turned his nose up at it, but he knew when to keep his opinions to himself. He wasn't his father.

"Suit yourself. I think perhaps the routine of it was helpful too. Find something to do every week."

"Like this?"

"Certainly. That's how it's meant to work. But when you can, find something to do that doesn't revolve around addiction. Church, volunteer work, whatever you like. I also got back into writing poems. That gave me something better to do. A little creative outlet never hurt anybody. Does all of that help?"

Eduard shrugged.

"Of course, everyone's different. But it helped me. 6 years sober. Do you have things to keep you going?"

He thought for a moment. "Friends. Boyfriend. He has kids, so, them, I suppose. I don't know. My job? I play piano?"

"That sounds like an excellent start. Prioritise all that. Things that make you happy. Real happy, not high happy. And talk about it. Don't let Natalya get to you, it's important. I presume for you, the story's painful."

"I've had my share of sand kicked in my face."

João narrowed his eyes. "Queen?"

"It was stuck in my head," he admitted.

"Good taste. Anyway. It'll be worth it, I promise. Why don't you try and say something today? Only as much as you're comfortable with. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good man. I need to start the session now."

He patted Eduard's shoulder and came up to the front. "Hi, everyone. Lovely to see all your faces this evening. A few announcements…"

Eduard zoned out. The announcements rarely applied to him, and there were other things on his mind. How was he meant to talk about it all? In front of people? To let everyone look at him the way people at work did, with pity and morbid curiosity?

"So, does anyone want to start?" João looked pointedly at Eduard.

He begrudgingly brought himself to his feet and up to the front.

"My name's Eduard and I'm an addict." It felt like a weird thing to call himself. Was he really an addict, or was his self control just shit?

"Hi, Eduard." They all spoke in unison. João was beaming at him from his seat. Eduard wanted to run out of the room.

"I- am I meant to tell you where it started or… yeah. Lars. He was a friend of my ex. I was in a… pretty rough relationship." Who was he kidding? Everyone was looking at the scars on his face. "But I got out of it. So… it's fine. Except I guess kind of in a way it isn't. He hurt me. A lot. And this man, he was his dealer. They were sleeping with each other as well, but… but that doesn't matter. What matters is eventually I broke up with him and his dealer stopped talking to him. Mostly because he was in prison.

"Anyway, after we broke up, I was… I was in a bad place. I wasn't sleeping or eating. I was staying with my friend. My… then-friend, current-boyfriend. Logan was always there for me. He always has been, all my life, and the years I spent away from him were the worst I'd ever had. I mean, mostly because of the boyfriend, but… I'm getting off topic, aren't I? Point is, I started using and… I just… I didn't even realise, really, how unhappy I'd been almost all my life. I was okay for, like, a moment. And I just wanted more, I guess. More and more and more."

He wanted more now. His throat tightened.

"I was just chasing it. A moment of being happy. All the time, if I wasn't high, I was depressed and scared and angry. So angry. I mean, my boyfriend knows I'm a mess but I don't think he gets how angry I am. All the time. This man took away half of my 20s. He took away what little I had left in me. I guess that's kind of a matter for therapy. But the drugs gave me some moments of being happy. And then when I wasn't high I got more and more depressed and scared and angry. So I used more. Just so I could be okay for a second. So I could escape. And it got harder and harder to chase the same kind of happiness I got the first time. It was like losing the one thing I had left, and I just felt worse.

"And I guess that's when I realised I could never be alright, I was never going to be. I was watching a film with him. With Logan. And I can't remember not being in love with him, he's amazing, and I wanted him to know. And I figured fuck it, I'm killing myself, might as well tie up loose ends and I kissed him."

Everyone around the circle looked as nervous as he did, and there was the pity there, but once he started talking, he couldn't stop.

"I used all the coke I had left. Which was… a lot. And it was so funny, I… I never felt that alive, but then when I took almost enough to convince me I still had a heart pumping blood around my body it was only so I had the guts to just fucking… die already. I stole his car. My ex boyfriend's. He wouldn't even care, he's in prison, nobody would have to know. I drove it into a reservoir. Survival instincts kicked in, I lived, but I woke up after a night unconscious on the top of a reservoir and I was just disappointed in myself. And tired. And I really, really wanted to be high. And I started dating my friend after that, which was amazing, and he's always there, looking out for me, trying to keep me safe and sober and I love him for it, because it can't be easy, but sometimes I just want to tell him to fuck off and let me go back to my self-destruction. He wants me to be okay, which is kind of hard for me because I don't think I want me to be okay. I'd rather be high. Or dead. But, y'know, it's- it's not all bad. Sometimes he catches me actually being happy, more and more lately, and then I catch him catching it so I catch it too and I think, uh…" He fiddled with his sleeve. "I don't know. I think that's a good sign."

João beamed at him. "I think it is. And I think the fact that you're talking about it after clearly struggling to find the words is good too. Does anyone have anything to say about the things Eduard has discussed?"

To Eduard's surprise, Natalya stood up. She shot him a little smile. He smiled back. It felt good to make a change.

---

Logan hated using the car.

He hated driving his children anywhere, and he hated it when Eduard had to drive anywhere. He could only think about Hunapo going through the old car's windshield, or Gunner's car dropping violently into the reservoir with Ed in the driver's seat. His therapist said it was a PTSD symptom. He tried not to think about that too much.

He worried when Eduard drove, but he seemed to understand it. Eduard admitted it was better to walk anyway - it meant he got fresh air and exercise. He wasn't just sitting at home gathering dust. Harry had been talking about global warming in Geography too, and with her insisting the whole family start cutting down, it gave Eduard all the more reason to humour her.

He tried his best - he cycled to the station and got the train to work when he could get himself out of the house, or did his coding at the little metal table in the back garden if he could get out of bed. Even if he couldn't do either, Logan would open a window for him. It was already a leftover habit from his driving ban anyway. It wasn't much change.

But the narcotics meetings were simply too far away, even from the nearest bus stop. It was unavoidable. Eduard had reluctantly agreed to let Logan drive him there, just for his peace of mind.

Logan would wait outside for him, spending the hour on his phone to avoid driving home and back again. By then, João knew him well enough, and put the leftover coffee and doughnuts out for them once the session started. Sometimes Logan would look through the window to watch Eduard talk. He'd talk carefully, hands fluttering, but he always seemed happier when he walked out. Sometimes he'd show him a little plastic chip the second he left the room. He looked so proud of himself. Like he was glowing. Logan was proud of him too. He was making real progress.

He always had a big kiss for when they got home; Eduard still felt weird about kissing in public. Not that Logan could blame him.

Harry, meanwhile, preoccupied herself with a sketchbook or game. Sometimes, João's daughter would be there too. She was about her age. At first, she never talked to them, then one day, when Logan was getting himself a coffee across the room, she shyly sidled up to Harry.

"Can I see your drawing?" she asked politely.

Harry hesitantly gave it to her. "It's not done." She didn't like handing her sketchbook over. To anyone. But the girl seemed nice.

"Thanks, I'm Josefina, by the way." Josefina gently took the sketchbook, sitting next to Harry and balancing it on her knees.

"Harry. You dad runs the meetings, huh?"

Josefina nodded, studying the sketch. "You're really good. I like the colours. Good use of… orange."

"I like orange."

"I can tell."

Harry looked at her shoes. Did she use too much orange? She liked warm colours in her art.

She watched Josefina nervously. It wouldn't be the first time someone had asked to see her sketchbook and then proceeded to ruin or destroy it somehow. Maybe the rest of her school could sense she was… different.

Instead she smiled. Her smile was so beautiful, like sunshine. Like those abstract suns her Gran would draw. "God, I wish I could draw like you. It's beautiful. Must have been drawing a long time."

Harry smiled, still a little on edge. "A few years, I guess." Since she was tiny, according to her dad. Those were bad though. She didn't want her thinking about the bad ones. Also she wanted her to think she was cooler than she was.

"Beautiful. Can I see?"

She hesitated.

"Sorry, sorry. It's fine if you don't want to."

Harry cleared her throat and sat up straight. "Uh… I can show you a few, if you want."

---

"Dad I think I'm gay," she said the moment she was in the car.

"Cool," said Logan, "so you like that one in the centre? You were talking a lot."

"Come on, dad," Harry blushed, "I don't like every girl I talk to. Just her. Her name's Josefina and she's really nice! But probably straight like every other really pretty girl I've talked to."

Logan snorted. "I spent four years thinking that about Eddie. You never know."

As if on cue, Eduard got into the car. "Sorry. Got talking to Nat."

"No problem. Seatbelt."

Eduard strapped himself in.

"Harry."

"I'm already in, Dad," she groaned, "Chill. Besides, will it matter if someone hits us from the side? Like, right into my door. I'd get crushed."

Logan's tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"Harry, maybe it's better if you," Eduard struggled to find the words, "don't say things like that. Do you want me to drive, Logan?"

He opened his mouth, then shook his head. "It's fine. Let's just get home. Glad you're both making friends."

---

Something was bothering Eduard, but Logan didn't know what.

Something was always bothering him in one way or another, of course, but he had seemed to be almost starting to relax until the past few weeks. The way his eyes darted and he made himself smaller. He seemed sharper too. Quicker to get angry, to get frustrated, for that seething, gritted-teeth, tight-fist sort of anger to hit him. He was on his guard. Something was wrong.

He knocked gently on the door and stepped into his room. He was hunched over his laptop, watching something.

"You wanna put your right hand on the crook of his elbow, the left hand over that one, and just-"

Eduard paused it quickly. "Hey. You alright?"

"Mm. Uh… what are you watching?"

"It's dumb."

"I guarantee you it's not."

"Don't worry about it."

He decided not to push it. "Alright. Uh… just wondering if you're doing okay."

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem a bit… I mean, do you want me to ask if you can have your next therapy session sooner?"

"I'm fine."

"Cool. Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do."

Was he off the wagon? Logan studied him carefully. He didn't seem energetic. He doubted he was high right then. But he could have been.

"What?"

He hadn't left the house much, but maybe he had snuck out to see someone while he was at work. He promised he'd deleted the number the girl from his support groups gave him, but how hard could it be to find another dealer? Or maybe he'd memorised it. He had a good memory.

"You'd tell me if something was up."

"Course." He wouldn't.

Logan nodded and left him to it. He tried not to get too worried, but it was impossible. Eduard stayed at the back of his mind no matter what. It wasn't until Tino called him a week or so later that he understood.

"Hey, Logan!"

He stirred the pasta sauce he was making for dinner, holding the phone between his head and his shoulder. "Hey! You alright?"

"Yeah, just wanted to check up on Ed. He says he's doing fine, but you know what he's like."

"Mm. Yeah, he's a bit weird lately. Something's going on with him."

Tino scoffed. "Well, yeah. I would be weird too."

And that was when it clicked. Logan mentally kicked himself.

"Give him my love for me, yeah? Keep an eye on him."

He checked the calendar in the dining room. There was an angry red cross penned in, a week from now.

The end of Gunner's sentence.

Fuck.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell him. Look, I've gotta go."

"Alright, man. See you soon."

"Bye."

Abandoning the pasta sauce, he stepped into the living room. Eduard was busying himself polishing his new DVD collection. He was making himself look smaller again, all hunched up.

"You're, uh… you okay?"

"Course."

"You're worried about…"

"Yep."

"Want me to go see him?" he asked, "Make sure he never comes near you again?"

Eduard hesitated, but he shook his head. "I don't want any trouble."

"But-"

"Please. I know you really wanna beat him up, but I just wanna put it all behind me." He put a hand on his arm. "It's not worth it, especially if Gunner's looking to get you in trouble."

"I can handle him."

"Yeah, but…"

"I can!"

"I don't want to get involved with him anymore, Logan. I never want to see him again."

Logan opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it and nodded solemnly. "Alright. I'll stay away. But if he gives you any shit-"

"Then he gets in more legal trouble. It's fine. I'll stay safe."

He whined. "At least let me be there to protect you."

"You can't just watch me all day, babe." Eduard stroked his hair.

"I can! I'll be your bodyguard!"

Eduard laughed at him. "Ooooh, you're a big strong bodyguard man?"

"I'm serious! I'll stay with you!"

"You have a job. I'll be fine. I'll just… lay low a little."

"Deal. But if he tries anything-"

"I know. I'll tell you."

Eduard kissed his forehead. "Thanks. For understanding, I mean. Very cool boyfriend."

"I'm very cool."

"The coolest.

"Just… unbelievably cool."

Eduard chuckled. "Go make your pasta, babe."

---

Eduard's car slid into the driveway, tires rolling across gravel. His hands gripped the gear lever as he parked, holding on tight. He pushed down the urge to hunch over, sitting up straight in his seat the way his parents taught him. He exhaled through his nose, composed himself, and opened up the door.

Lockpick in his front pocket, knife in his back pocket, tire iron tucked neatly into his jeans. Everything he needed. He glanced through the window. There wasn't a sign of life in there - he must have been upstairs - but the bruise in the plaster was still there, clear as day. It didn't sting the way it did the last time. That made him smile.

He kneeled down and got out his lockpick, fiddling with the keyhole. He'd tried it on practice locks, but actual doors were a different matter.

He took another breath to calm his nerves and started singing under his breath. "Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle with you."

The lock made a satisfying click and the door fell open. Eduard sucked in a breath, waiting for the sound of surprise, of being caught out, but it never came. Taking the tire iron out of his trousers and gripping it like it was the one thing tethering him to the earth, he crept upstairs.

"Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you," he muttered, "And I'm wondering what it is I should-"

One of the stairs creaked. He heard footsteps and his heart could have beaten a hole through his chest, but he sucked in a breath, stood up straight, and marched onward. So what if he made a sound?

Gunner stepped out of the bedroom. Prison hadn't been good to him. He'd only come back that day and, though he'd already put in his stupid hairgel, he'd done nothing to hide the tiredness in his eyes and bruising across his face. Good. Let him suffer.

Eduard had sort of been expecting to turn tail and run the moment he showed his face. He wondered if Logan would be proud of the way he instead stepped forward, back straight, eyes ahead, tyre iron already slippery from the clamminess of his hands.

Another step and another and he raised the tyre iron over his head. He was running at him, at Gunner, towards him, which was the last thing he'd have ever expected himself to do.

Nothing was real, until the very solid sound of the tyre iron hitting Gunner's skull brought him back to his body, but he didn't stop. He was by no means a strong man - he was tall, sure, a head above Logan since he hit 15 years old and the growth spurt of the century, but his muscles never quite followed. Adrenaline alone propelled the iron over Gunner's head, again and again, on his arms as he tried to defend himself. He cried out.

"Eddie! What the fuck! Stop it-"

He hit him in the stomach.

"I swear, the moment I get up, I'm gonna-"

He refused to flinch. He landed a blow to Gunner's face, and his nose erupted with blood.

Eduard couldn't stop. He was leaving his body again. A spectator, watching his hands grip the tire iron and hit and hit again. There was red on the walls. There was red on his arms.

Gunner was begging him to stop. Had it been this easy the whole time? He was cowering, crying as Eduard cracked his ribs. This whole time, if he had tried to stand up for himself-

The past was in the past. The damage was done. Right now, he was abandoning the tire iron, out of Gunner's reach. He didn't want a weapon. He wanted to feel his blood beneath his fingers, feel him writhe, feel him scream. He dug his thumbs into his throat, wondering if he had the grip on him to crack something or if he'd just leave him breathless with tears in his eyes and a hoarse voice. Either was good. He kneeled on his torso and felt him try to cry out.

He remembered the knife in his pocket and wiped blood off his hands and onto his carpet to dig it out of his pocket.

"No-"

He wasn't quite sure what the sound was that left his body. He decided it was a laugh.

The scars on his face still stood out, white on pink, tiny but all over, covering his skin. He only wanted to give as good as he got.

He never did have the best handwriting, and Gunner was still struggling, though the blood coming out of him was slowing him down. He persisted, digging the knife in, piercing his skin. The first cut. He dragged downwards, watching blood spring from the wound. He dug in deep, feeling it scrape along the bone, three long lines. A wobbly, crimson A on Gunner's forehead. He followed it with a B - its curves were hard, forcing him to resort to triangles, but he was rather proud of the U that followed. By S, the blood flow was enough to get in the way, but at least he was staying still enough for him to perfect the E and give him a pretty legible R. He patted his handiwork tenderly with a sleeve, admiring it.

ABUSER , carved into the skin, deep enough to leave scars that lasted. A red arrow pointing right at him, telling the world what he was, telling every potential friend, or employer, or victim what he was.

"What are you telling your old friends on the force?" Eduard asked him. His voice came out soft and clear. Not afraid. Not anymore.

"Nothing," he rasped, "Nothing, I swear."

"And are you ever bothering me again?"

"No. Promise. Please-"

Eduard stood up and picked up his tire iron. Gunner didn't move. "How's it feel on that end?"

Gunner didn't say anything.

He nodded. "Thought so."

He turned and left - down the stairs, out of the door, into the car. He collapsed into the driver's seat and drove away. Away from him for the last time, he promised himself. He had to leave all of that behind now. He drove and drove, letting it all wash over him.

Turn the page. Finish the chapter. Drive away. He was safe now.

---

Logan watched the kids slaving over their homework at the table, Eduard guiding Reilly through a maths problem. They still hadn't quite defeated maths.

Reilly was curled up on Eduard's lap, feeling the material of his jumper as they stared down. They had really taken to Eduard, and his apparent spy ways. They liked that he let himself be scared, and they liked that he understood what that meant. He knew exactly what they were going through, why they reacted to everything the way he did. Eduard couldn't explain it to them, and they struggled to babble out feelings and symptoms, but they didn't need to. He understood them. They believed they understood him, and he liked their simple solutions to things.

Logan's phone rang, and he excused himself into the kitchen. Tino.

"Hey, man, what's up?" He smiled at a drawing Harry had done on the fridge, of the family. It was next to one Reilly had done, where Mewie was nothing more than a grey blob, and Ed's face hadn't even been coloured in.

Tino ignored the niceties. "What the fuck are you playing at?"

"Uh…" Logan searched his admittedly negligible memory for what he might have done lately. "Elaborate on that?"

"I hate Gunner as much as you do, Logan, but you can't take matters into your own hands like that."

"Like what?"

"Don't play dumb with me!"

"I'm not!" he protested, "My dumbness is genuine! What happened?"

Tino paused.

"You don't know?"

"I've never been less in the clear on what you were talking about, and that includes when you and Ed speak liquorice at each other."

"Firstly, what the hell did you just call the Estonian language? Secondly, Gunner's in hospital, mate."

Logan blinked. "What? What's he got himself into? He's only been out a day or so."

"He's not talking. The fact that someone carved the word "abuser" into his forehead narrows down the list of suspects, though."

"Tino, I swear, this is the first I've heard of it." He shook his head. "Fucking hell, though. I mean, okay, sure, full disclosure, I was gonna beat him up a little bit, but Ed told me to..." He trailed off, looking out of the window in the kitchen door. Eduard was in there, celebrating another sum well done. He was clapping for Reilly. They both looked so proud.

"To?"

"To back off. Hey, listen, I'll talk later. Alright?"

"Alright. See you la-"

He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket, opening the door back to the living room.

"How's the homework?"

"We're making progress," Eduard told him, "They're starting to get it, aren't you, Rei?"

Reilly beamed and nodded. "Almost done."

"Can I steal him for a moment?" Logan asked them.

"Dad! I need his help!"

Eduard smiled at them reassuringly. "We won't be long. Keep chipping away at question 6, yeah?"

Reilly groaned, but they let him disappear into the kitchen with Logan.

"What's up?" Eduard asked, hopping up onto the counter.

"Got a call from Tino. Gunner's in hospital."

Eduard tried to look casual, forcing his hands into his pockets and leaning on the tiled wall. "Oh? What happened?"

"He won't say much. He got beaten up really bad though, I think."

"Well. I-" Eduard arranged his limbs into what he hoped was a confident sort of position. "I wouldn't know what happened there."

Logan raised his eyebrows. "No?"

Eduard shook his head. He bit back a laugh, but it escaped in spite of himself.

Logan found himself chuckling too. "C'mere."

Eduard hugged him.

"You carved what he is into his forehead," Logan commented, "have you always had a flair for the dramatic?"

Eduard laughed. "I don't know. It wasn't planned. I was just carrying the knife for defence. Kinda got carried away."

Logan snorted. "Sounds like you really went for it."

"Mmm. Maybe a little too much."

"Nonsense. He had it coming."

Eduard nodded. "He really did."

They stood there a while, arms around each other. "Are you alright?"

"What? Yeah, why?"

"You faced him. I mean, that must've taken a lotta courage."

Eduard shrugged. "I don't know how I did it. And maybe I went too far, but I'm just tired of him hurting me, then weaselling back into my life. I don't want him to even think about coming near me again." Was he crying? He hated that. He hadn't cried since Gunner got out of prison.

"You took things into your own hands. That's good."

"It's illegal."

"So?"

"It's bad, I shouldn't have… no, I needed to. But…"

Logan pulled away from him, but he kept a warm hand on each arm. "Does it matter? It's happened. And he's not gonna say anything, right?"

Eduard couldn't meet his eyes - he hated when other people were right, always had - but he reluctantly smiled. "I don't think so."

"Then it's all over. You never have to see him again." He took Eduard's hands into his. "You can do whatever the fuck you want."

"I want to have sex with you," said Eduard suddenly. It wasn't until the words were out of his mouth that he realised how true they were.

Logan blinked. "Ed, you don't have to-"

"I want to. I mean it. I'm taking back my life, and I want to bone my boyfriend. Been putting it off long enough."

"And you sure you'll be alright?"

"Either I will be or I won't. Only one way to find out."

Logan nodded, and picked him up, carrying him to their room.

It was different. Logan always tried to be gentle with him, but now he was so careful, tenderly holding Eduard, sat on his lap and taking off his jumper. Logan traced a hand over the scars on his chest.

"We don't have to go far if you don't-"

"I want to. But if anything changes, I'll let you know." He kissed him softly.

Yes, Eduard had his fears, his nerves, but he didn't fall limp, didn't go back to those nights with Gunner, face-down in the carpet. Logan held him in his arms, kissing him softly and making sure to prepare him. He didn't go further until Eduard was ready, both physically and mentally. It was like nothing he'd done before - not like Gunner, rough and violent and one-sided, not even like Lyubov, shy and sweet and tender, with both of them second-guessing the hell out of themselves. It was something entirely new, for him and Logan and nobody else. When the slightest cloud of a doubt touched his mind, Logan would touch him, or do something that would chase all the blood out of his brain. Every little kiss was a firework, not a swarm of bugs on his skin. And, even though Logan was bigger than Gunner, it didn't hurt. Nothing was forced, nothing was coerced and demanded. Logan was soft on his skin, his hands heavy, but heavy like a warm coat, enveloping him and keeping him safe from the cold.

He was going to do this again and again.

---

Logan held him close, panting and stroking his hair. Eduard's fringe clung to his forehead, poking him in the eyes as he smiled into Logan's neck. He kissed the salty skin under him, catching his breath.

"Good?" asked Logan.

Eduard nodded, smiling. He hadn't quite processed it as having happened yet. "Amazing."

"You sure you're okay? Wasn't too rough? Wasn't too-"

"Logan?"

"Mm?"

"It was amazing. Shut up."

Logan laughed. "Alright, alright."

Eduard clung to him as Logan lay them both down on the bed, wrapped up in a duvet. When they were both snug and warm, he sighed in content. "Feels right. Feels good."

Logan nodded. "You sure you're okay?"

"Stop talking."

Logan grinned. Eduard always liked his grins. They were cheeky, mischievous, like a baby that had just farted. "Okay, okay." He kissed him. When they pulled away, Eduard couldn't help staring.

"You're pretty," he mumbled. It was true. His kind smile, the beginnings of wrinkles around his eyes, dark freckles on his cheeks, the coarse hairs on his chin. Pretty. And with him, right there in their bed, with his hands mapping the terrain of Eduard's bony back.

"You're pretty," he shot back, "You're stunning. And cute. And you make some really good noises."

"Shush."

"You shush."

"Make me."

"I'm tired though."

Eduard burrowed further into his neck. "God, me too. Night, baby."

"Goodnight."

---

True to his word, they didn't hear any more of Gunner. From what Tino had told Eduard, not a lot of people at the hospital had any sympathy for him, not after Tino had confirmed that he was an abuser. Nevertheless, the doctors did their job and he was discharged.

And no matter how many times Eduard told himself that Gunner deserved it, he still felt… off. Hurting another person didn't feel good, but he couldn't tell if that was the case, or if he was just guilting over how it actually - deep down - felt very, very good. Or how he sort of understood where Gunner had been coming from, in a way.

Either way, it wasn't an experience he was keen to repeat. He wasn't a violent person. He just wanted to get out of there for good. It wasn't like he was about to track down his sorry excuses for parents and do it again. He didn't want to. He just wanted to be left alone.

The excuses didn't make him feel much better. He just had to put it away with all the other fuckery he'd amassed over the years. At least Logan seemed sort of proud. He said he was brave. He didn't know how that made him feel.

Eduard promised himself he would never do something like that again, not unless it was to protect his family.

He was better than Gunner, and he was going to act like it.

---

He didn't know why Logan taken him out to the park, but it seemed to be a date.

They walked down the path towards the pond, in the late sunset glow as everyone was leaving. It was one of the nice parks, with flowerbeds and a working fountain and no fingering or drug deals. Spring was really doing a number on the place, daffodils on the sides of hills and blossoms covering trees.

Logan put down a picnic blanket for them, and Eduard sat by the water's edge. The pond was only big enough for a few ducks, but they swam over when they saw the pair. Logan started throwing duck feed into the water, keeping the people food out of sight, safely in the basket. Eduard just watched him.

When he was done, Logan sat back, and Eduard lay down with his head in his lap.

"Can I play with your hair?" asked Logan, and Eduard nodded. No one was about; they should be safe. Logan stroked his hair, running his fingers through it before bringing them down to massage the back of his neck. Eduard turned his head to put his cheek in his hand. As Logan ran his thumb along the length of his neck, Eduard turned his head to kiss the inside of his wrist.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too." Eduard gazed up at him, expression soft and tender. Logan was looking down with the same look.

"Can you name all the constellations?" asked Logan.

"I- no, of course not, I mean… some."

"Most," Logan smiled, "if not all. You learnt them off by heart at uni, remember? To win a bet."

"Vaguely. I remember there's 88 of them. But, you know," he gestured, "I've forgotten stuff. Like… a large chunk of my childhood. Not the bits with you, just the… yeah. Can't remember a lot of what happened with Gunner now, except the stuff that… you know, bad dreams. Wish I'd forget that."

"Ed, I believe you can remember the constellations, you big fucking space nerd."

Eduard smiled, glad Logan couldn't see him blush. "I mean, there's the obvious ones, like Orion." He looked up to search for those three telltale stars. "And, um, the Plough, Ursa Major…" He screwed up his face as the mess of stars started unravelling itself and he saw the more obscure patterns and pictures. "Ursa Minor, Draco…"

"Ain't that the bitch from the wizard films?"

"Yep. Same bitch." He put his head on his shoulder and pointed it out. "Those ones there, just between the Ursas. It's circumpolar. Never sets below the horizon. And that's Pisces."

"You're a Pisces, aren't you?"

"Whatever that's meant to mean."

"For someone so into astronomy, you're really not an astrology guy."

"I'm not the way I am because I was born in February."

"Nah, fair enough. Kinda interesting though, isn't it?"

Eduard just nodded. His friends who were into astrology all had that same look when he started talking about how wrong it was. Whenever he'd mention how the planets were in different positions each year, therefore couldn't affect people with the same birthday, Lyubov and everyone else at the uni party would just get a glazed look and wait for him to stop talking. Five minutes into his rant, he'd realise he sounded like Eliisabet and trail off into silence.

Logan always insisted he loved Eduard's nerdy rants, but Eduard still had to wonder if that was true. Just like how he wondered if Logan actually loved him. It was getting better, an increasingly solid thought in his mind that Logan might actually care about him as a person. Logan was deeply, truly, in love with him, and if the both of them repeated that fact often enough, Eduard would eventually believe it.

He knew he loved him. He loved him like he didn't even know he could. It would take time, he knew - little things he used to dream of still scared him, but he knew he wanted to be with Logan forever.

"Hey, Eddie, can I ask you something?"

Eduard sat up. What had he done now? "Sure. Go ahead."

"You're not in trouble, baby." He leaned over and stroked his hair. "You're never in trouble."

Eduard wasn't convinced. "What do you want to ask me?"

"Well… close your eyes."

He did it without question, bracing himself. Logan wouldn't do anything to him, but it was ingrained at this point.

"Okay, now open them."

Eduard did so, and found himself staring at Logan's grandmother's ring. Hunapo's ring. It was nicer than the one Gunner used. Less garish. A little blue stone embedded in a silver ring.

"Eduard Kalev Mets, will you marry me?"

Eduard froze.

"You don't have to say "yes", or anything at all. This is completely your choice."

Eduard searched for something to say. Anything. He didn't even know what to say yet, but he had to get something out.

"But I'm not pregnant."

"And that's a shame. But I like you. I really like you. I love you. And I want to stay with you for a long, long time. If you'll have me, that is."

Eduard took a moment to process it. He took the moment in, Logan gazing up at him, nervousness in his smile, but happiness too.

"Really?"

He nodded.

Eduard found himself smiling too. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's get married!"

The nervousness on Logan's face faded to pure excitement as he stood up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

This was their adolescent dream, even if Eduard had never admitted it, even to himself. Together forever. No one to hurt them, and nothing but happiness and family and each other. Logan slid the ring onto Eduard's finger and kissed his hand.

He didn't have the same fear as when Gunner proposed. The sense of being thrown in a jail cell to rot. This wasn't the end; it was the start of a new chapter.