Boo

Ch. 24

Logan didn't go back to work for a month after that.

It was more like he physically couldn't. Everytime he blinked, he relived that moment over and over again. Everytime he breathed, he thought of how Emile would never be able to again.

And that thought was too much for him.

It was a month later when he felt like he needed to resume his life. He had almost been unable to pay rent the previous month, and knew that he needed to get back to his job.

When he walked into the cafe, Janus was immediately in his face.

"Where have you been?" He asked, and Logan almost thought he heard concern in his voice. "You look terrible."

Logan went to spew out some bullshit excuse, when he hesitated.

Did Janus know Emile? Were they as close as Remus and Emile were? Janus surely knew about Remus' line of work, right? His brother was involved in it too.

"I--uh--" Did Janus know what happened to Emile? Based on his appearance, Logan assumed not.

"It's been weeks! I thought you died!" Janus scowled at him, crossing his arms.

Logan winced, not appreciating the comment at all.

He almost had died. If Emile hadn't told him to hide...well, Logan would've shared his fate.

Logan hadn't attended the funeral, mostly because he wasn't invited. It was understandable, though. He didn't really know Emile; he had just met him that day, after all.

He wondered if Ms. Ågren showed up to the funeral. Would anyone have the audacity to show up to the funeral of the man they killed?

Logan's blood boiled as he imagined the smirk on her face as she watched everyone weep around her.

"--alker? Stalker?" Janus snapped his fingers in front of Logan's face, causing him to return his focus to the present.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Logan smiled weakly.

Janus stared at him for a minute, searching for something in his expression. "Forget it." He shook his head, looking away. "You know the drill, aprons in the back. And take a shower when you get home, you reek."

With that he went behind the counter, and left Logan to his own devices.

---

Logan was exhausted when he got home, a migraine beginning to form. He honestly just wanted to curl up in a ball and fall asleep on the ground.

However, he apparently needed to take a shower.

He shuffled past Remus, who hadn't moved from his spot on the couch in weeks.

Logan silently slipped into the bathroom, sighing heavily.

Did he have the right to be so effected by Emile's death? He had only met the guy that day, after all. There were people who had known him--who had loved him--that were probably feeling a million times worse than Logan.

He had only known the guy for a few hours, was it normal for him to be so upset?

Logan didn't even notice he had stepped into the shower until he felt the sensation of hot water against his skin.

---

Cold.

Logan felt cold.

Even as he lay underneath his covers.

Even as he turned the heater on.

He felt cold--freezing, even.

An indescribable chill ran through him. One that filled up his longs and left him gasping for breath. One that slithered its way around him and encased him in ice.

But he also felt...

Hot.

Unbearable hot. Scorching hot.

Like the shallow breaths he took in were physically burning him. Like there was an endless pressure around him that refused to let up. A heat so insufferable that it made him want to claw his own skin off.

What was he feeling right now?

It was hard to describe an emotion, when he wasn't even really sure what he was feeling?

It felt like...fear?

Or maybe...

Panic.

But that made no sense. He's never had a panic attack before. Why would he be having one now?

Why would he care so much about a man he had just met?

Why would he care?

Why should he care?

Why does he care?

He didn't know him. He didn't know him at all. He didn't deserve to be this upset.

He shouldn't be crying right now. Why was he crying right now? He's experienced loss before. Never in his life has he reacted like this.

Cold.

Like Emile's dead hands.

Hot.

Like the blood that dripped down onto the floor.

Cold.

Like the gunman's laugh.

Hot.

Like the tears rushing down Logan's face.

Like the tears rushing down Logan's face?

Why was he crying?

---

"Stalker," Janus began, a deep frown on his face, "are you okay?"

Logan groggily rubbed his eyes, looking over at him. He didn't really process the question, it was rarely asked to him anymore.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" Janus repeated, stepping a little closer. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine." Logan told him. Because he should be. He should be fine. Why wasn't he fine?

"Liar." Janus crossed his arms. "Do you need time off? You clearly aren't okay, and I don't want you working yourself to death."

"I--uh--"

"You get next month off." Janus told him. "Or--at least, until you're better."

"That's not necessary. Really." Logan tried to convince him.

"Logan," Janus scowled, "you're taking that time off. This isn't a request, it's a demand. Take next month off."

Logan sighed, realizing he couldn't get out of this one.

A/N:

Would it really be one of my books without a panic attack scene?

Gonna ignore the fact that I was unhappy with how it turned out. Also gonna ignore how long this chapter took me. Oh, to see without my eyes. 😌😌😌