The circles under his eyes never left after that day. They were an always present part of him, like his scars and his pain. It had turned out to just be a bad day, a very bad day. Another didn't come until March. Rory had left the two at the house to go visit her grandfather who had become ill. She didn't think anything of it at the time, Logan having been fine up until then after that day in December.
She was leaving her grandfather's hospital room, glad to have spent time with him. He wasn't the same as he used to be, so much frailer, so little life or energy. She couldn't think of the possibility of losing him, dead set on thinking that he was going to get out of the hospital and go home despite the knowledge that he wasn't. He wasn't going to go home, not that time. She was glad for the time she'd had with him, but she wished for longer, wished for Eli to have longer with him. Her phone ringing brought her out of his thoughts.
"Hello?" she asked, not recognizing the number. Leaning against the wall, she heard a commotion around the caller. "Hello?"
"Oh thank god! I've been trying to get ahold of you, Rory," Mitchum said. His voice was strained, stressed. She could hear a child in the background. Was that Eli?
"Mitchum, are you okay?" she responded, standing up off the wall.
"I'm fine, but it's Logan, Rory. I don't know how soon you can get to the hospital, but it's not good." Her body went ice-cold, head spinning. Rather than saying anything, she just shut the phone and made her way down to the emergency room. When Mitchum came into view, her heart dropped even more - if that was even possible.
"Mitchum?" she asked tentatively, walking up to him. Eli was sitting in his carseat still, so she unbuckled him and picked him up. He was seven months old, getting bigger everyday. His hands grabbed onto Rory's hair, but she didn't pay attention. She just smiled and gave him a kiss before turning back to Mitchum. "What happened?"
"We were supposed to have lunch today," he told her simply, as if he was telling her what the weather was. "When he didn't show up, I went to the house and when he didn't open the door, I grabbed the spare key." She held onto Eli a little tighter, his hands still playing with her hair. "Eli was screaming his head off, and I found him in the playpen, so I went looking for my son. Rory…" For once, his voice faltered, and she knew what he found wasn't good. "I found him at the bottom of the stairs."
She felt herself sit down, but didn't comprehend it. Holding onto Eli, she could feel her heart skip a beat. He'd passed out before, but it had been over a year since he'd come back from London. It had been over a year since she got that call from Colin. A year… Oh, how much could change in a year.
"Can…" She tried finding her voice, trying to keep the tears back. "Can you take… Take Eli to my mother's house?" He just nodded, taking the boy from his mother. He was crying, reaching out for her, but no matter how much her heart was breaking for her son, she knew he was coming back. She knew she was going to hold him again and tell him she loved him. She had to be there with Logan. She had to be with the person she was losing.
"Mrs. Huntzberger?" a nurse called into the waiting room. She looked up, her neck hurting from being hunched over. Glancing at the clock, she saw three hours had passed since Mitchum left with Eli. It had been three hours of torture for her, all the possibilities running through her mind.
"Yes," she managed to say, her voice too quiet for the woman to hear, but she gave a look of understanding.
"You can come see him if you'd like. I'll fill you in on the way." Rory nodded, mumbling a thanks as she walked with the woman. She was in her forties, reminded her of Ms. Patty. "He took a good fall," she finally said, breaking the silence. "He's got a concussion, a few broken ribs, some tears in the muscle of his left shoulder. Pretty bruised and he's got some scrapes and bruises, as well as rug burn." It was too much for Rory to handle as the nurse filled her in on her husband's multiple injuries.
"Do we know what caused the fall?" It had taken her a minute to be able to ask the question she didn't want an answer to. All the injuries, she knew they wouldn't compare to the reasoning behind it all. All the stuff on the outside would heal, everything on the inside wouldn't.
"Anemia. While we were looking at white blood cells and ANC, it's common to overlook a red-blood cell abnormality." She nodded. "It's caused by the cancer, but it's manageable." The woman opened the door to the private room, ushering Rory inside. When she entered, she couldn't breathe. He was laying the bed, blankets pulled up. A splint was on his wrist, bandages on his arms and neck. She saw the cuts on his face, as well as the bruising. An IV was hooked up, as well as a blood transfusion. He looked so weak, so pale.
She took a seat in the chair next to the bed, taking his hand in hers. God, she hated this. She hated having to be the doting wife, hated that he was in the hospital, hated their entire situation. If she could, she'd be throwing things across the room. She'd be yelling, cursing, doing anything to get rid of this anger that she felt. She squeezed his hand gently before kissing it softly. She could see the rug burns on his palms.
And then another piece of reality hit her. He had passed out and fallen down the stairs. He was in the house alone with Eli when it happened, and if Mitchum hadn't had plans with him, who knew how long he would've been there. Who knew how long Eli would have been sitting in his playpen, wailing until somebody showed up.
The heart monitor beeped rhythmically as she held onto his hand. It was time to have somebody at the house, even for just a minute check-in. She needed to look out for both Logan and Eli, and this was it. She felt him shift slightly, a wince coming across his face. As his eyes slowly fluttered open, a look of confusion followed.
"Ace?" he asked, voice scratchy as he turned his head to look at her. She kissed his hand again, giving him a small smile. "What happened?" Before she could answer, a look of terror replaced the confusion. "Eli…"
"Is fine," she finished for him. "Mitchum came by when you didn't show for lunch. Your red-blood cell count is too low, so you passed out. Logan, you fell down the stairs." He closed his eyes, head falling back as he took a deep breath.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "I… Eli…" She stood up, leaning over the bed slightly.
"Look at me," she commanded, and he followed instructions. She let go of his hand, cupping his face. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about. Eli is fine. You're going to be okay. They're going to get you all better and then you can come home, okay?" She knew the smile she gave him was just a ruse to make him believe the words she was saying. But neither believed them. He wasn't going to get better, not completely. Gently, she kissed him. His hand rested on the back of her neck, keeping the kiss until they separated for air after lungs started screaming for it.
One hand stayed on his cheek, the other was tracing the new cuts on his face. Her thumb brushing against his bottom lip. He kept his eyes closed as she memorized him, something she'd been doing since the initial diagnosis. His hand reached up, holding onto the wrist of the hand that was resting on his cheek.
"I love you," he told her as they held their position. She'd miss it. She'd miss the late night conversations, the sound of his voice, the way he stole the sheets, watching C SPAN, stealing the newspaper only for him to steal it back. She'd miss all the small things that had become routine, that had become ingrained in their lives.
"I love you too." He moved over on the bed enough for her to fit, and she laid down with him, her head resting on his chest. She felt him tense up before relaxing, most likely from the broken ribs. "I think we need to call one of those numbers Max gave us," she told him hesitantly. "I think it would be a good idea to at least have somebody checking in for now." His fingers twirled in her hair.
"I agree." She could tell he didn't. She could tell he didn't want to feel like he couldn't be himself, that he couldn't take care of his son. But she didn't need to come home and find him dead on the floor, or another fall that happened hours before. She didn't need to have to worry about leaving their son alone with him, and she didn't want to. She didn't want to have to think this way, to have to think that Logan couldn't take care of Eli because she knew he could. But she also knew his health problems had already started limiting him.
It all started after the first bad day. He had gotten better, but walking hurt on some days. He said he could feel it in his hips. Other days, it hurt to breathe as if there was elastic around his chest. One day he had a migraine that kept him in bed or hovering over the toilet. He'd been lucky enough to not get an infection, but all the other small things… They caused changes to have to be made. The master bedroom was still upstairs, but they'd arranged the downstairs bedroom to accommodate them when he couldn't take the stairs. They'd put a crib in the living room so that if he couldn't take the stairs, he could still take care of Eli. She'd had to leave a list of numbers to call because he couldn't remember Finn's one day. A different day, she had to leave a note of what medications and how much to take because he'd forgotten the day before.
It was all adding up. She should have realized that the first bad day would cause a tail spin, but she wanted to be oblivious. She didn't want to have to think about it. She didn't want to have to worry if Eli was going to be okay or if Logan would remember what medications he needed to take or if he'd be stranded upstairs. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to get those swirling thoughts under control.
"I wasn't feeling too hot this morning, but I didn't think of it," he confessed. "I mean, I haven't been feeling the greatest most days, so I shrugged it off. If I had just told you I wasn't feeling good, or if I'd called Finn or Colin to come keep me company…" She knew he blamed himself for this, and she could see why.
"It's not your fault, Logan. You didn't ask to have cancer. You didn't ask to relapse or to be having bad days left and right. You can't blame yourself." He kissed the top of her head, his fingers resuming their work in her hair. She laid there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, hearing his heartbeat not only through the reverberations of his chest, but through the heart monitor as well, feeling him close to her. For a moment she could pretend that things were getting better.
A/N: Jordana60- my inbox is always open if you need somebody to talk. I understand the feeling, I understand completely. In general, my inbox is open to anybody that needs to talk for any reason.
I will mention that this story is dying down finally. I'm not one-hundred percent sure how many more chapters I'm going to write, but I can tell you it will range from probably 5-10 not including the epilogue (which I already have written). I will also tell you that there will be a sequel! I'll give you guys more information on that as I finish up this one. As always, I appreciate your reviews - Completely ADORE them even when you guys are angry at me. Keep them coming, and I really hope you enjoyed this update, and expect a new one here soon.