The Sanders Fleet

TheGoodeSlytherin - Analogical Angst

{Possible trigger warnings: ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, speeding, cops/paramedics/hospitals, heartbreak, ALL THE ANGST

If I miss something, I apologize and please let me know

Thanks @TheGoodeSlytherin for fueling my predisposition to write painful scenarios... and for giving me something to do while I'm taking breaks from studying for finals}

He was holding an apple when it happened, and he would never forget that moment.

As soon as it registered, Logan's stomach dropped in horror. The once bright fruit, now a dull grey, fell from his hand and rolled underneath a nearby shelf. His shopping basket hit the floor not a moment later as he spun on his heel and raced for the door.

The sky was a pale color, nearly silver. Maybe it would be pretty if Logan weren't so hyper-focused on reaching his car.

He fumbled with his keys in one hand when he reached it, grabbing his phone and hitting the call button on his fiance's contact.

It rang and rang as it connected to Logan's speaker, then went to voicemail.

"Virgil here. If I didn't answer I probably don't want to talk to you. Don't call back, text me if it's a big deal."

Logan punched the roof of his car once and reached over with one hand, blindly tapping the voice-to-text button.

"Virgil- Virgil if you see this please text me. I need to know- this can't be true. Please tell me it isn't true."

The message was messy and un-punctuated, but he sent it like that anyway. No time to proofread as he was pulling into traffic.

Logan could feel tears building up, but swallowed harshly and tried to push them back. He needed to focus, he had to get across town.

The flashing lights behind him were in black and white, but he could hear the siren. Logan furiously slammed his fist against the side of the steering wheel and carefully pulled over. The tears began to fall now, and he swiped them away with a shaking hand.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?" The police officer asked in a businesslike tone.

"I-I'm sorry. It's all- it-" Logan squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the steering wheel. "It's all black and white."

There was a pause, then he felt a hand on his arm. He blinked a few times to try and clear his gaze, then looked up at the officer.

"Where you trying to get, son?" The older man has greying red hair and a thick, dark beard. His face had shifted into a worried frown.

"Hatchetfield City College." Logan sniffled, taking off his glasses slowly to clean them. He needed something to do to try and keep himself from breaking down completely. "My- my fiance-"

"We'll get you there, don't worry. Just follow me."

Five minutes later, the two cars were flying down the main road, Logan being given a police escort to the college where Virgil worked.

There were two ambulances in the main parking lot. Logan wrenched his steering wheel sideways and left his car parked across two empty spots, only sparing enough time to put it in park and grab his key before sprinting out into the cold.

Fall, Virgil's favorite time of year. It should be so pretty, so vibrant.

He couldn't see any of it.

A large group of students were clustered in the lobby of the Sciences building. Several of them were crying, and Logan once again experienced that painful feeling of realization and horror.