It was his first bad day, the first of many, she knew. It all started with her waking up to soaked through sheets. At first, she ignored it, not thinking anything of it. It didn't happen often anymore, rarely. But when she felt him tossing and turning, she knew it was for real. It wasn't her sleeping mind playing tricks on her. She sat up, resting her hand on his chest. He calmed down, but she could still tell his rest wasn't truly restful.
His skin was hot to the touch, reminding her of the first infection he had. It reminded her of their white bathroom stained red. It reminded her of sitting on her knees with cleaning gloves on, scrubbing the tiles until a pink foam covered the bathroom. It reminded her of the look in his eyes, of the fear in her throat. It reminded her of how real this was.
"Logan," she said softly, her hand moving from his chest to run her fingers through his hair. She felt him relax slightly before she spoke again. "Logan, you need to wake up." She shook his shoulder gently as his eyes slowly opened. It looked like they were made of lead, not opening all the way, half closed as he mumbled incoherently. "Go hop in the shower, babe." He stood up slowly. She'd never seen him move so slow. Once on his feet, he wavered, grabbing onto the headboard to steady himself.
When he left the room, she pulled the sheets off the bed, tossing them in the hamper. Tears stung her eyes as she pulled a new set on. Struggling with the third corner, growing frustrated, the tears started to fall. She couldn't understand why this was happening to them. She couldn't understand why, if there was a God, why He could allow any of this to happen. Why did it have to be Logan? Why did it have to be her Logan? Her head rested in her hands as she heard the shower run, the baby monitor humming as she heard Eli coo in his sleep.
The clock read two in the morning. It was too early for either of them to be awake, too early to have to deal with any of the facts of their reality. It was too early for her to be changing the sheets and for him to be in the shower. But life didn't care that it was too early. Life came at them like a charging bull, knocking them down and trampling on their hopes and dreams. Finally, she found it in herself to stand up and finish making the bed. She laid back down, staring at the ceiling and waiting for him to come back.
She felt the bed shift beside her and his arm snake around her waist. Slowly, she felt him relax until he was back asleep, but her mind refused to let her do the same. It focused on everything that was going to come, everything he was going to go through and suffer through for however long he had.
"This is the first of the bad days," her mind told her, and she knew it was right. She knew that waking in the middle of the night to soaking sheets wasn't normal. She knew it was always a sign of a bad day. As the sun rose, as she watched the sunrise through the window, her eyelids heavy, she heard the first cry of Eli.
He was four months old when Logan had his first bad day, and that was the first night he slept through. She didn't understand. It was almost as if he knew this was going to happen, almost as if he knew he needed to sleep through the night. But she also knew that was most likely the sleep deprivation talking. Of course their four month old didn't know.
"Hey, baby," she cooed as she picked him up from the crib, bouncing him gently to keep him calm. She didn't need him waking Logan up, not then, not that day. Slowly, she walked out of the nursery and downstairs. The pastel green walls shone with the sunlight, calming her. Eli's eyes looked around him, and he gurgled. "You a happy baby?" she asked, repositioning him to where he could look over her shoulder. Soothingly, she ran her hand in circles on his back. She wasn't sure if it was to soothe him or her, but both worked.
He started getting fussy again, so she walked to the kitchen, Eli still in her arms. Her feet were dragging, exhausted. She knew it wasn't good, it wasn't good that she hadn't slept or that Logan was sick. She knew Eli could feel it all, could pick up on the vibes they sent out, so she tried to stay positive, but also knew she needed to call somebody. She pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator, popping it in the bottle warmer Emily had gotten them. As much as she loved being able to breastfeed Eli, it got painful at times. And there were the midnight feedings that she could barely stay awake for, so formula was a good option. It allowed her to sleep, and it allowed Logan to be able to have that experience with his son.
As he ate, she leaned against the counter watching him. His eyes roamed, never looking at one thing for too long. One of his hands had a fistful of her shirt, the other latched onto her middle finger that held the bottle. For being so young and small, he was so curious of the world around him. He was constantly putting things in his mouth, staring at people and objects. He was starting to learn how to sit up, but still hadn't mastered it. She saw the pain in Logan's eyes every time Eli had a first - which weren't many at this point - but she knew she'd be seeing it a lot more. They both knew that Logan seeing firsts was very limited. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this would be Logan's last. With that thought came the knowledge that Logan thought the same thing.
She hadn't realized he'd finished the bottle until he started hitting it. With a small smile, she left the empty bottle on the counter and walked back into the living room. She had to call somebody, anybody. She knew that she couldn't watch him when she was this exhausted, it wasn't safe. She'd not been paying attention while he was eating, who was to say she wouldn't fall asleep on the couch and something happen to him. Sighing, she laid him on his back on the play-matt. His hands reached for the dangling toys, cooing as he did.
Picking up her phone, she dialed a familiar number. "Eli wake you up again, babe?" her mom asked, voice slurring slightly. Of course her mother was still asleep, why wouldn't she be? It wasn't like she had a baby that would wake her or a sick husband. "It's what... five?" Her mom was right.
"Can you come over?" Her voice was soft, hesitant. "I just really need you right now." The last word caught in her throat. A mixture of exhaustion, frustration, and sadness hitting her like a bag of rocks. She didn't hear her mom ask what was wrong or the dial tone when the other woman hung up after promises to be there in twenty minutes - despite the average drive time being thirty. Tears poured down her cheeks as she watched their son, oblivious to the world. The only thing he knew was that the toys were sparkly and colorful. He didn't know what cancer meant, didn't know of death or of pain. The worst pain he'd experienced in his four months was gas pain.
She did hear the door open and close. She felt her mom's arms wrap around her as the tears cascaded, the sobs barely held back by her clenched teeth. Closing her eyes, she tried to push all those thoughts out of her mind. She tried to remember the good times with her boys, or with just Logan. Anything to try and keep the impending death out of her mind. But none of it worked. All she could think of was a boy growing up without a father, of a funeral, of the sadness everybody would feel. She thought of a world without Logan, and it was a world she didn't want to experience. Nothing would be right without Logan.
"Shush," her mom said soothingly, holding onto her, pulling her close. She was a little girl all over again, needing her mommy's hugs and kisses to make the pain go away. She wanted to believe the pain would go away. Her mom kissed her forehead, head resting on hers as the cries slowly died into whimpers that slowly died into tears. Even when she thought she couldn't cry anymore. She heard Eli squeal in happiness. She wished she was that oblivious. And she was once she fell asleep in her mom's arms.
When she woke again, her mom and son were nowhere in sight. She stood, walking around the house until she found them in the nursery. Eli was asleep in the crib and her mom napping in the rocking chair. She owed so much to her mom, somebody willing to give up the world for her daughter. Now, she was willing to give up everything for Eli. She could finally understand why her mom left Hartford, why she gave up that future and the money for Rory. She did it out of unconditional love. Something Rory hadn't experienced until she held Eli in her arms. She liked to believe she had the same kind of love for Logan, but she knew it wasn't true. She knew she could never stop loving her son, but she knew that she'd move on from Logan - eventually.
She shut the nursery door, moving into the bedroom to check on her husband. He was splayed across the bed, laying on his stomach with one arm curled under the pillow, the other laying across her side of the bed. The blanket was pulled up to his waist, but she knew one leg was bent at the knee while the other stayed straight. It was his go-to sleep position. She sat on the bed next to him. Without waking, his arm moved out of her way as if he knew. And she knew that he knew to an extent. It was the same way she knew he was up and out of bed without having to look, or knowing that he'd gotten back from talking with Melanie or with his father. It was all in the vibes around them.
She rested one of her hands on his shoulder blade. His skin was still hot to the touch. She hoped it wasn't an infection, that it was just a temperature regulation problem. He couldn't get sick, not like that, not then.
"Morning," he mumbled into the pillow. She looked at the clock, closing her eyes as she took a breath. It was nowhere near morning. Her mom had gotten there around six that morning, it was now three. How had she slept that long?
"Morning," she said back, not wanting him to worry about missing the day. His numbers would be there the next. "How you feeling?" Her hand rubbed his back gently, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Tired." He didn't move, didn't open his eyes. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck." She gave a small smile, but worried more instead. He shouldn't be that tired, he shouldn't be feeling sick. He should be awake doing work, watching the news, playing with his son. Anything but what he was doing.
"I'll bring you some food," she told him, leaning down and kissing his forehead. He mumbled a response, but it was incoherent. As she walked downstairs, she pushed her worries down. It wasn't something she wanted to think about, not then.
The only soup in the house was chicken noodle, so it was a simple make. Put in a bowl and put in the microwave, simple enough. As the microwave worked its magic, she heard somebody walk into the kitchen with her.
"How you holding up?" her mom asked. Leaning against the counter, she sighed softly.
"I've been better. Logan woke me up at two with a sopping wet bed. I couldn't get back to sleep after that, so when Eli woke up I was tired as it was. Thank you for coming." She turned to face her mom who gave her a hug.
"It's no problem, kiddo. You know you can call me for anything. How's Logan feeling?"
"I think he's getting sick. If he's still like this tomorrow, I'm taking him to the hospital. I just can't lose him, not yet. Not while Eli's still so little." She hoped her mom understood. Even though she knew she'd never be ready to lose him, they all knew they couldn't lose him this soon. He still had so much left to see and do with their son. As the timer went off, her mom let her go.
"I'm going to take this up to Logan. I'll be back down in a minute." She grabbed the bowl, putting it on a plate with a spoon before making her way back upstairs. Slowly, she pushed open the door. Logan had repositioned to where he was laying on his back, his head lolled to one side and his lips parted slightly. He looked so peaceful. She hadn't thought that in a long time, no need for her to see the peace in his sleep because he was peaceful in the waking hours. Today was different.
She sat next to him again, and his eyes opened slightly. He looked at her with a small smile, and she helped him sit up. "If you're not feeling better tomorrow, I'm going to have Finn watch Eli and I'll take you to the doctor." He started to protest, but she cut him off by handing him the soup. "We need you to be healthy for as long as you can, okay?" He gave her a look of understanding as he started to eat.
As she watched him, her hand rested on the blanket covering his leg. She could feel the heat radiating through the material and she inwardly sighed. That wasn't good, none of it was. Him feeling sick, having woken up to a soaking bed, his sleeping all day and barely wanting to eat.
It's just a bad day she tried to think, to rationalize what was happening. But there was no rationalizing it. It may have been a bad day, but there were going to be more to come. They were going to get more frequent. She just hoped this wasn't the start of that downward spiral. She hoped for just a little longer.