Logan Sanders One Shots

Austere

Austere

/ɒˈstɪə,ɔːˈstɪə/
Adjective

• Strict or severe in manner or attitude.

"He was an austere man, with a rigidly puritanical outlook."

• (Of living conditions or way of life) having no comforts of luxury.

"Conditions in the prison could hardly be more austere."

• Having a plain and unadorned appearance.

"The cathedral is impressive in its austere simplicity."

Tw: Solitary confinement, self harm, pain

This is a hurt/comfort fanfic, as asked by _toasted_bagel_

If you want to skip to comfort, scroll down until you see the bold text.

This was not intended to have any shipping and is platonic, although you can interpret it that way if you wish.

Logan rubbed his elbow. Pain was already sprouting from it; he had been writing for too long. The muscles were rigid for too long, and Logan could feel them complain. He looked around the room, looking to find a distraction from the pain blossoming in his arm.

The wall was plain white, the colour of a sclera or the emotions the other sides thought Logan had. There was nothing hanging on the walls. No mementos, no medals, not even any bookshelves. Logan was sitting at a plain white desk, the only thing in this 'room.'

Logan stood up. The hard plastic chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise. He placed a hand on the wall. There was 3 inches of soundproof plaster. It separated him from the other sides almost completely. Logan withdrew his hand from the wall and walked up to the door.

It was a heavy iron door. The door's windows were barred, blocking Logan from the outside world and giving the appearance of a prison from inside. Logan pulled on the door handle. He pulled as hard as his arms would let him, but alas nothing happened. There was no chance of him breaking his way through; the door was locked and an inch thick.

Logan clutched his head, sinking to the floor. It was hard, cold, concrete, but Logan was happy for the distraction from the pain emanating from his body. It was like tendrils of misery were wrapping his arm and head, submerging him in torment.

Logan cried out. The sound echoed around the room, warping and twisting until it sounded like a mandrakes shriek. Everything was getting too much for him. How long had he been here? He drew his hands up, scraping his face in the process. The sensations clustered around him. There was no hope of any rescue. No one had come for him before, why would they come now?

The awful shrieking quieted down, leaving only the ringing in Logan's ears. His body was enveloped in pain. It wasn't just the head and arm anymore, no, each limb was subject to the torment. Logan guessed it was because of stiffness, although it was hard to think with the pain around him.

His limbs went numb. Logan lay there on the cold concrete, alone in the room. The air suffocated him; there was no window, no air vent, nothing. Shreds of air seeped in underneath the door, providing him just enough to not pass out. Was this fine? The other sides thought it was, so therefore it must be :D.

A noise emerged. Logan forced himself to glance up, fighting the overwhelming numbness. A figure peeked in, sweeping their gaze through the room to take in all its details. Their curly brown hair sprung with every motion.

They rested their gaze on Logan's body lying on the floor, paralysed. Logan could hardly believe it. He wondered if it was a hallucination, and that he had passed out from the pain seemingly minutes ago. He couldn't make out who they were, not by the voice, face, anything.

"Oh my god, Logan!!!"

They rushed over, grabbing Logan and hugging them close. Tears leaked from their eyes, dripping down Logan's body. Logan tried to smile and push them off, but he was too weak. They noticed that immediately and withdrew.

"Are you okay? Your face is looking injured."

They touched Logan's cheek. Pain immediately swarmed that part of his face, making Logan wince. Darkness enveloped him, swallowing him whole as he laid there in the figures arms. The black was unlike anything Logan had seen for a while as he was kept in eternal light.

Genial

/ˈdʒiːnɪəl/

Adjective

•Friendly and cheerful.

"Our genial host."

"Logan! Please don't die on me!"

Logan's eyes focused; he finally saw who the figure was. He tried to speak, say something to his rescuer. The one who rescued him from himself, the one who might've stopped his fading, otherwise known as his death.

A squeak emerged from his throat. It was pitiful in the least. Patton's gaze was filled with worry as he held Logan. He slowly released Logan onto his bed- wait, when did Logan get moved into Patton's room?

Logan looked around. He was definitely in Patton's room. The colours were swarming him. Pinpricks of pain circled his consciousness, yet he fought to stay awake. He struggled to sit up, using the shards of strength he still had.

"Logan, I've got to help you!"

"Don't move!"

Exclaimed Patton, rushing over with tea, herbs, and blankets. He placed the herbs and blankets on the bedside table, and sat down next to Logan.

"Open your mouth."

Logan did as Patton asked, and opened his mouth. He turned and faced Patton. He trickled tea down Logan's throat slowly. It had an interesting flavour, the complete opposite of the room Logan dwelled in. The tea had luckily cooled down enough so it wouldn't burn Logan's throat, but it was warm enough to provide him with much needed energy.

"I'll check your temperature, and give you a bath, okay?"

Patton asked, glancing at Logan. Logan felt warmth blossom in his chest, something he previously thought was impossible. He smiled weakly at Patton. Patton was the only person who ever visited his room, and this was the most kindness he had ever been shown since Virgil showed up.

"Everything's going to be alright Logie."

The thermometer was taken out from a cupboard. Patton turned back towards Logan and motioned for him to open his mouth. Logan did so. Patton placed the thermometer underneath Logan's tongue and pressed the button.

"12 degrees? You need to warm up, here."

Patton gently tucked Logan into the bed and placed the blankets on top of him. This created a safe abode completely different to where Logan was previously. Warmth seeped into Logan's body, restoring feeling in his arms.

"Thanks Patton."

"You're welcome Logan!"

Patton smiled at Logan as he got up. He walked over to the door and flicked the lights off. He turned and looked at Logan one last time before he exited.

"Night night Logan!"

"Stay safe, alright?"

If you have any ideas, just ask, I'll do my best to write them! :D

Word count: 1147 words