For One So Small

September 2010 – Nine Years Earlier

Clay could vaguely hear the opening song of Tarzan playing from the living room, where he had convinced Sara to put her feet up while he was painting the nursery. Before he had even got as far as choosing a brush, his cell phone rang. Seeing Sara's picture flash across the screen, he answered quickly. "I like your style, angel," he laughed. "You need something?"

"Yeah, you." Shaking his head in amusement, Clay wandered out into the living room to find his wife staring at the television with tears in her eyes.

"That was faster than expected," he teased her. "I can't believe you're crying already. This movie is so bad for your hormones."

"Shut up and sit down," Sara grumbled, patting the space beside her on the couch. "It's justified; Kala's baby is dead! What if something happens to our son, Clay?"

"Kala is a fictional gorilla, sweetheart," he pointed out, biting back a laugh since he valued his life. "Besides, isn't her finding Tarzan the whole point of the two worlds thing?" He sat beside her and drew her trembling fingers into his lap, stroking her hands until she stopped shaking. "Nothing's going to happen to our baby, I promise you. He has us to look out for him. Besides, I haven't seen any leopards waiting to murder us in the backyard lately."

"You're not funny." Sara hit him lightly in the arm, but Clay couldn't keep the amused smirk off his face. "I'm serious!"

"So am I," said Clay solemnly. "Baby, I promise you, our little boy will be safe and loved forever. I won't let anything happen to him! This is just the beginning of forever." He followed her gaze to the screen where Kala was singing to baby Tarzan now. "Listen to the words. You'll be here in my heart. Always!"

Sara placed her hand against her belly and hummed along with the lullaby. "He likes this song as much as I do," she said softly, positioning Clay's palm over her fingers. "Always is just what I needed to hear. I love you, Clay Evans."

He melted into her kiss, the nursery paint job forgotten in the blissful promise of their future.

Clay couldn't get the ringing in his ears to stop. He barely remembered the ambulance ride to the hospital, only that the paramedics pushed him aside to race inside when they got there. It took ages to feel the delicate fingers squeezing his hand like a pulse. Finally, he realized it was Callie. "I called Quinn," she said softly. "She's on her way."

"Okay," Clay whispered. "Okay."

"Just breathe," Callie reminded him. "Logan is tough, he'll be alright."

Clay's fingers brushed his side, grazing the spot where his donor's kidney had been hard at work for the past five years. Katie's manic gaze flitted across his agitated mind, and Clay released a pained gasp not unlike his son's in the classroom earlier. "I can't do this!"

Callie probably said something else that was supposed to be comforting, but the next thing Clay was aware of were the frantic footsteps that landed Quinn where he needed her most. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?"

"Katie," he choked. "Apparently, she's related to one of the Tree Hill P.D. detectives. They chose Career Day at school to have a go at each other…with guns. The bullet ricocheted…it hit Logan. I don't know anything else yet."

"What?" Quinn stared at him, horror-struck. "Logan's been shot? How were guns even allowed in the school?"

"Everything is allowed on Career Day, educational authenticity," said Clay bitterly. She placed a soothing hand over his heart when his breathing turned shaky and far too rapid. "Please, not Logan…not my baby."

"Our baby," Quinn reminded him, her voice quivering but her grip steady. "Calm down, I'm here. He has to be okay; he has to!"

"I feel sick," Clay moaned, breaking free of her embrace to sit down, bending towards his knees.

"You should drink something," Callie suggested, handing Quinn a cup of water from a nearby dispenser. "My mom taught me it's impossible to hyperventilate and swallow simultaneously; useful trick."

Quinn forced Clay to take a few sips, then stood up slowly. "Thank you, Callie," she said fervently, hugging the stunned younger woman. "I remember thinking how great you were at your job when you jumped ship from Clay's former agency to start from the bottom out of loyalty. This is above and beyond the call of duty."

"We've been a part of each other's lives since before Logan was even born," said Callie simply. "I'm here for all of it. I was so excited when you finally went back to get him from his grandparents."

"Oh God, what will we tell Sam and Lil?" Clay turned faintly green at the mere thought. "I swore to them Logan would be better off with me, so much for that."

"This is not your fault!" Quinn snapped. "Logan wasn't even the target; it's just bad luck that he's classmates with a kid related to Katie. I mean, what are the chances of that? We were sure we'd never have to cross paths with her again. That family clearly has bigger issues than what she did to us."

"No kidding," said Clay dismally. He was still staring resolutely at the dizzying pattern on the pristine tiled floor when the edges of a lab coat crossed his vision.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans?" Quinn nodded on his behalf, clutching Clay's arm so hard he was losing feeling. "The surgery was a success. We had to surgically intervene to treat a hemothorax in your son. As a result, he'll have to have a chest tube in for a few days. The bullet hit the edge of one of his lungs and caused it to collapse. But he was very lucky. The tube should be able to be removed soon. There shouldn't be any long-term damage after the fractured rib that caused the lung to collapse mends. It could have been far more serious! You can see him now, but be warned, he needs rest. Try not to stress about the tube; it's a temporary measure that helps drain fluid from the lungs. He can definitely still hear you."

November 2010 – Nine Years Earlier

Clay crept into the hospital nursery to find Sara beside their son's incubator, stroking his tiny fingers through the hole in the sturdy plastic case. "Have you eaten something?" he asked softly, squeezing her shoulders. "You heard what the nurses said. A month early isn't so bad. He'll be fine. Our little Wolverine is a superhero, remember? He'll come home before you know it."

"It feels like my heart is beating outside my chest," Sara whispered, staring at her son. "I can't leave him, Clay. The doctors said his lungs are a little underdeveloped. What if he stops breathing right when I leave the room? No, I'm not moving from this spot!"

"Then I guess neither of us is moving from this spot," said Clay, pulling up a chair beside hers. He reached for Logan's tiny fingers, noting the blue tinge to the newborn's under-oxygenated fingernails. "You're a tough little guy, aren't you, buddy? Just keep breathing, okay? Mommy and Daddy can't wait for the rest of your life. We love you so much, Wolverine." Sara pressed her tear-streaked face against his shoulder, and he squeezed her as hard as he could. "How can he refuse that pep talk? Logan is going to be just fine, angel…I promise!"

A pulling sensation dragged Clay from the depths of his dark thoughts. Quinn led him towards the room Logan had apparently been assigned while Clay was lost in his memories. She sat on the side of the bed further from the door and gently touched their son's forehead. The chest tube hissed with every breath Logan took, and watching its slight movement made Clay nauseous all over again.

"How did you survive this when it was me still in the coma after we were shot?" he asked Quinn miserably. "Seeing Logan like this feels like being punched in the stomach repeatedly, or worse!"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, but for all the devastation in her quivering voice, she sat beside him with rock-solid strength after their months of heartbreak. "I love you," she whispered, and with the way she squeezed Logan's motionless fingers and curled into Clay's desperate embrace simultaneously, he knew she meant them both. "Please wake up, Wolverine. I can't lose another baby this soon. Come back to us, okay?"

"This reminds me way too much of the night you miscarried," said Clay quaveringly. "What did we do to deserve this? He's just a kid! Clearly, the universe is on a twisted mission to take away everything I love most."

"Logan's not going anywhere," said Quinn firmly, wiping away the tears that had been about to spill over. His fingers trembled on top of Logan's hand, and she covered them with hers, the warmth steadying his tremors. "Do you still believe in Logan's guardian angel?" she asked softly, and Clay took a shaky breath and shrugged slightly.

"It's not easy with everything bad that's happened since last Christmas," he admitted. "But I guess I do because he does."

"Then I think we should ask Sara to send Logan back to us, healthy and happy," Quinn suggested. "What do you think? He believes in her magic powers, doesn't he?"

"That's one of the perks of growing up with Sam and Lil." Clay smiled faintly despite himself.

As if mentioning their names had summoned Logan's grandparents, all three of them slipped into the room at that moment. "Mom?" Clay stared at his mother, the guilt keeping him from looking Sam and Lil in the eye. "How did you get here?"

"You need to give Callie a raise," Marie informed him. "She called Nathan, who told us what happened. I didn't want to believe it. How is he?"

"He's…a superhero," said Clay softly. "He'll get through this. He has to!" His gaze shifted to Sam and Lil, hovering behind his mother and staring at their grandson. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You trust me with your heart, and then this happens. I'm so, so sorry."

"Clay, stop!" Lil demanded sternly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You didn't shoot him. Blame the asshole administrators who let guns into that school for any reason."

"I don't think I've heard you swear in the fourteen years I've known you," Clay marveled.

"Idiots with guns deserve no less than some choice curses." Lil's eyes glowed with anger like he had never seen before, but knowing he wasn't the target made Clay feel slightly better.

He glanced at Quinn lovingly and squeezed her fingers. "You really are always right. We need them around."

"I won't say I told you so," Quinn sighed desolately. "Not today. I'm too glad they're all here."

Before Clay could even move, Quinn had made a beeline for his mother and sagged into her waiting arms. And he watched her let go of all the pain she'd been hoarding since they arrived at the hospital, overflowing yet again. He flinched slightly when Sam moved around the bed and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Logan will be fine, son. He's got the fighting spirit in his DNA. I need you to believe that, alright? You came back to us, didn't you? He will too, I promise."

"You hear that, Wolverine?" Clay told his son. "Even Grandma and Grandpa know how tough you are. I need you to prove them right for me, okay? I already lost your mommy's eyes once. Come back to me…please." One hand still resting on top of Logan's blanket, the desperate plea was the final straw. Marie handed Quinn into Lil's care, moved hastily around the bed, and let him cry.

A / N I don't even know how I keep outdoing myself on the angst scale anymore, enjoy! xx