sixthiterationlogs | Oh, father tell me, do we get what we deserve?

WHO: Logan
WHERE: Fountain/Hospital/House #58
WHEN: 29th, early afternoon + onwards
OPEN TO: Claire, Erik, Rory, Margaery; OPEN
WARNINGS: Severe, gruesome injuries - will update accordingly. Also cut for spoilers.
STATUS: Open

March 29th - Fountain

For everything that Logan imagined death would feel like, his mind was in a completely different place. There had been no flash of bright, clean light, nor images of his entire life flashing before his eyes. There was intense pain - more than he'd ever remembered feeling before - but not from the physical injury he had sustained, rather by looking into the dark brown eyes of an eleven year old girl who became more than just a job, in the end. Charles was right -- he had time to experience family and to love and be loved in return.

But only just.

So this is what it feels like..

After a fleeting moment of peace, the embrace of warmth felt quickly unravelled into a cruel and unforgiving pain; penetrating through every inch of his entire being. As his body began to lift slowly upwards to the surface of the fountain, bobbing there briefly before blood began to saturate the forest green scrub shirt and colour the water around him.

He heard the voice of the frail old man again.

I'm sorry, Logan. Not now. Not today..

March 30 + Onwards - Hospital/House #58

There is not much memory of being pulled from the fountain, or the extents those that helped him took to repair the injuries that he came back to the village with. What he remembers most while trapped between subconscious and conscious states are one word, said over and over and over again until Logan finally opened his eyes and slowly came to realise where he was.

Daddy.

Over the next several days, he would continue hearing Laura say it, often stirring and prompting his eyes wide open to look for her face. Of course, it was never there.

As soon as Logan could walk, Logan went back to the house he claimed to continue healing. When he wasn't sleeping, he was sitting on the porch in silence. Lost in thought. Haunted by voices and memories of circumstances that he would never be able to change.

And of the time that he was supposed to have, but didn't have any longer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was one of those moments of being in just the right place at the right time for Claire. She had been wandering by the fountain when a flash of color caught her attention and made her turn her head to look at the water. It took her a second or two to register what she was seeing then, causing her to stop sharply before she rushed to the edge of the fountain.

"Oh god." She pulled herself over without hesitation, splashing into and through the water as she started towards the body. Given the build and the familiarity she had with the man, she recognized Logan almost immediately. It would have been a shocking sight with just about anyone but it filled her with dread to find someone she knew covered in blood and clearly injured.

"Logan!" She called out, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling. It was easy in the water but she knew she was going to have trouble once she tried to get him out. "Logan, can you hear me?"

Until Claire got to him, he didn't move. Logan remained face down, arms slightly apart from his body looking very much the dead man that he was supposed to be. His ending was back in his world, embracing it, even in knowing he left a little girl behind who needed him.

His little girl.

Even with the abrupt tug that pulled and turned his face and body and out of the water, any sign that Logan could hear her - or that he was even alive - was unresponsive. But what could be noticed was the large gaping hole in his stomach as the shirt drifted up.

If that wasn't unsettling enough, perhaps it would be the far older look of the mutant Claire had likely seen often enough until a few days prior.

After they reached the edge, a gush of fountain water expelled from his mouth, causing an involuntary cough and an excruciating wail.

Logan's eyes flashed open and he grabbed Claire's wrist before staring at her in frantic distress.

At first, Claire thought there was a very good chance that Logan was dead. Not that she stopped trying to get him up out of the water, grunting a little as she hoisted him up as best as she could with him being pretty much dead weight. Grunting again, she paused for a moment to lean back against the fountain edge so she could get a look at him. That was when she noticed the large gaping hole in his stomach, the sight of the wound causing the blood to drain from her face. Not because it was horrible to look at, which it was, but because it seemed to confirm that there was no chance he could be alive.

Which was most likely why she actually let out a startled noise when his eyes snapped open and he grabbed onto her just a few seconds after. The shock of it had her nearly dropping him into the water again but she caught herself before his head could go back under.

"It's okay!" She looked over her shoulder as she tried to reassure him. "I've got you. You're going to be okay as soon as I can get you out of the water."

Then she yelled, praying someone was close enough to hear her. "Help! I need help here!"

Erik's inclination to help depends on a lot of things, the main one of which tends to be his mood. He hasn't been in a very good mood since he arrived here, but he at least understands that if any of them have a chance of survival, they all need to do what they can.

He's walking through the square, passing by the fountain, when he hears someone yell for help. Since he's on the way to nowhere in particular, with nothing he needs to do at this exact moment, and no reasonable excuse not to help. Besides, it sounded to him like it was Claire who called for help, and she's one of those he'd help probably without question.

With just a few steps, he's at the edge of the fountain, looking down into it. "Claire?" A glance into the water tells him what's going on here.

As he reaches in to take hold of whatever's within his reach, the irony's not lost on him that this time he's pulling Logan out of a body of water.

There is no hiding the relief on Claire's face when she spies Erik striding towards them after her cry for help. Honestly, she is rather happy to see him because he is one of the ones she counts as a friend. He may not understand why but she does and he is one of those that she would help with very little question. Right now, she needs his help.

"I found him floating and I can't get him out. He's hurt, badly." She grunts as she tries to lift Logan again, which is easy to a point and then he feels as heavy as a ton of bricks again. It's easier with Erik's help, though, and she scrambles over the edge as they get the unconscious man out of the water.

"Careful." She doesn't care that she is soaked to the skin as they lower Logan to the ground and she kneels beside him. Reaching for his shirt, she peels it back and immediately pales when she sees the wound. It's not the worse thing that she has ever seen before but it isn't good. "Shit, we need to get him to the hospital."

Logan's return filled her with conflicting emotions, relief and concern battling between themselves for dominance. While she had missed him and wished for him back, she had never wanted him to arrive in this state. He was far older than she remembered and worn, injured to such a degree, she feared for his life.

Yet he seemed to recover, if not slowly. When he was returned to his home, Margaery followed. She sat at his bedside as he slept, making him food and bringing him fresh water. When he woke and moved about, she would leave him to his silence, only sitting at his side to offer support. She would watch the skyline, listening to the sounds of the forest, simply sitting with him as he recovered from whatever haunted his memories.

Her eyes drifted to his, full of worry and sympathy. Gently, she offered him her hand.

Oh, father tell me, do we get what we deserve?

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