Finding The Write Words

Chapter 27

Logan forced themself to calm down.

Roman was in the hospital. He was safe now. He was going to be okay.

They knew that Roman being in the hospital didn't intrisically mean he was safe, or okay. But they held onto hope, gripping it tight as they could and refusing to let go.

They took a deep breath.

They drove Patton to the hospital, and when they passed the wreckage, they stopped. It was absolutely insane.

A small, old car had crashed into the side of Roman's smashing the driver side door in. There was huge chunks of broken glass everywhere, and they were sure they saw blood on the pavement beside Roman's car. But that could've been a trick of their eye. It had to be.

They were nauseous. Their stomach churned and twisted as they stared at the wreckage.

"You have your license, correct?" they managed to gasp out. Patton nodded, though his eyes were glued to the disaster in front of them, his jaw slack in shock. "Can you drive? I can't, I..." They shook their head. "I can't."

"Yeah. C'mon." His words were ragged, like they burned his throat, but he complied nonetheless. He and Logan got out of the car, switching seats, and once they were buckled up once more, they started driving.

Patton forced himself not to look at the wreckage as they passed.

Forced himself not to turn when Logan gasped, their eyes widening.

Forced himself not to look.

He gritted his teeth, fighting the tears in his eyes and tightening his grip on the steering wheel to stop the shaking.

They made it to the hospital without incident, and the two of them rushed into the emergency room, tripping over their own feet in their hurry.

The receptionist got to his feet when they approached, concern on his face at seeing the bruises on their faces.

"We need to see Roman Montague and Virgil-- Fuck, what's his last name?" Logan turned to Patton, who gave him a look at the curse.

"Virgil Sinclair. They're our boyfriends. Stop... stop looking at us like that. They're not our bruises."

The receptionist stared at them for a moment longer before typing something on the computer in front of him. "Alright, I can take you to see Mr Montague, but it appears Mr Sinclair has put in a request to not have visitors aside from his grandmother. And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say neither of you are his grandmother."

"Wh-- What? No." Patton's brows pulled together. "Why would he-- Lo, why would he-- wh... why?"

Logan rested their hand on Patton's arm to stop him. "We can worry about it in a moment. If Virgil is well enough to request not to see us, I don't think he's in immediate danger. We need to see Roman, and we can worry about Virgil in a moment."

Patton paused, wanting very much to say more, but nodded.

Roman was unconscious, but telling from the steady beeping of the heart monitor, he was stable. He looked so small in the bed, with the tubes coming out of him. The blood was gone from his face and arm and neck, but the bruises were still there. And they looked so much darker, so much more vibrant, surrounded by the white sheets.

Logan was rooted to the floor, afraid that if they moved - even to take a step towards the bed - their knees would give out. They stared at Roman, in that too white bed...

In the too-white room...

And they paled.

Nausea rose up in them once again and the world faded from existence.