(A/N:) Human Au. As a word of caution, there is mention of homophobia in this one which is addressed multiple times and some slight angst. Enjoy.
Third Person P.O.V:
Logan grips the steering wheel tightly, early morning sunlight streaming in through the car windows. His tired mind seems to run in worried circles as he grows closer and closer to his destination. He hasn't slept a bit in the evening, though it wasn't as if he was trying. He's sure Roman didn't get a bit of rest either.
When he gets to the front of the police station he feels a lump form in his throat and his heart starts to pound a little more ardently in his chest. There are police cars lined up in the parking lot, Black and white, the only color variation being their red and blue lights that when on duty would be bright and glaring. Logan can feel a headache coming on just by so much as thinking about that, but perhaps it's because of what he saw last night.
He opens the car door, rising to his feet and shutting it behind him with a harsh slam. He rests a hand over his front pocket, patting the money that's kept secure inside. He pauses a moment, staring up at the slate grey brick building and feeling a shudder run down his spine as uneasiness washes over him. He tries to remind himself that it's just a building, a place where people are kept and shouldn't cause him so much discomfort, but he knows deep down that it's the fact that Roman is inside of there that really makes him so distraught. With a final thought of preparation on just what to say, he lets out a long sigh and starts towards the building.
Logan walks with slow, even steps in the direction of the door, straightening his tie and fiddling with his glasses in an effort to look as professional as he can manage. He knows that his hair probably looks much like a nest a rat might inhabit, but there's not much he can do about that right now. He didn't have time to run a comb through his hair today. He was told that he could get Roman first thing in the morning, and so that's just what he's doing, even if it means slightly sacrificing his appearance. He couldn't care less about it at this moment.
He pushes through the double doors, the dimly lit police station remaining just as bland as the inside with beige walls and plain colored desks and chairs. It's neat and orderly, and if this were any other time, Logan would've respected that but, in this moment, this well put together room feels like chaos.
He walks up to the front of the room and stops at the desk of the chief of police, who grimaces darkly the moment he catches sight of Logan. The gentleman - if you could call him that, which Logan didn't think that he could - is of middle age, his hair disappearing and grey. He has a long thin pale face and stands at a staggering tall height when not seated. The man is dressed in a formal police uniform, his badge glistening, a badge Logan feels as though he is undeserving of. Looking at him, you probably wouldn't be able to tell what sort of a person he was. Maybe you'd feel a little uneasy in his presence like many people do when they are around an officer of the law, but that's about all. But Logan knows all too well what sort of a man Mr. Brady is. He learned about that last night, what kind of a man many of the officers are.
"I'm here to retrieve Roman Prince, " Logan says in an even, serious tone of voice, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bail money before slamming it onto the desk with much more force than necessary. "I believe this is all you said I owed last night." The large sum of money was slid across to Mr. Brady whose facial expression was one of amusement, his lips pressed together in a tight line.
"Ah yes, the bail to get Mr. Prince out of the clink, hm? You know it really sickens me that a man like that should be able to get out of doing his time just because his ..." the man pauses, narrowing his eyes at Logan, looking at him intently like a predator toying with its prey, "... bitch paid his way out. If it were up to me, I'd send him to federal prison myself. He viciously attacked one of my dutiful officers who was merely doing his job." At this point, Logan is rapidly beginning to understand why Roman threw a punch in the first place because that officer had spoken just like this one and does. Loan feels his blood boil, his breathing becoming slightly uneven as he clenches his fists tightly. He not only called his boyfriend "a man like that" but referred to Logan as "his bitch." And this man is the chief, the commander of his officers, someone who is supposed to be an ally to the people who simply wants to regulate their safety, which is exactly what he isn't doing. He's never been more disappointed in human nature. Logan swallows thickly.
