DISCONTINUED // forever ever ever // intrulogical

3 - logan oliver grant

(tw! past abuse, slight description of gore, violence, hospitals, stitches)

sorry for lack of updates! shit's kinda hitting the fan but i'm trying to force myself to write so i can hopefully get into a good rhythm again. this chapter might be a little short but i'll try to shoot for my usual 1000+ words.

the big chunk of stuff in italics is a flashback

p.s. thank you so much for 100+ reads!

Name: Grant, Logan Oliver
DOB: 11/3/1998
Height: 5 feet 6.75 inches
Weight: 143lbs
Blood Type: B-
Preexisting conditions:
Date admitted: 17/10/2016
Admitted due to: A multitude of deep wounds causing him to loose potentially fatal amounts of blood. Patient also suffered from head trauma and bone breakage in the left forearm.
Treatment received: Stitches on all wounds necessary after admittance to the emergency department before transfer to the trauma center for further care and treatment.

Patton ran quickly through the halls, fear and panic and worry and dread and- oh you get it by now. He's scared as heck. He had received a call about forty-five minutes ago concerning his best pal ever, Logan Oliver Grant, being in the hospital. Why had Patton been called instead of Logan's parents?
Patton didn't know but, he had been told that he was the first emergency number on Logan's phone. It both worried and prided Patton that Logan trusted him that much to put him down as the first contact instead of his parents. But for now, Logan was in critical condition and Patton needed to focus on that.

"Focusing now, Patton!" He murmured to himself as he moved quickly through the halls towards the trauma center, "Logan needs you to be there for him!" He turned a bend and arrived at the trauma center. He raced over to the counter and skidded to a halt, panting softly. The receptionist looked up and gave Patton a deeply quizzical look.

"Are you alright sir? How may I help you?" They asked and Patton held up a finger as he caught his breath. When he did, he spoke.

"M-My friend, Logan Oliver Grant, was admitted here less than an hour ago. H-He's eighteen, about five foot five, five foot six, and h-has very dark brown hair and stormy blue eyes. What r-room is he in?" Patton asked through heavy breaths. The receptionist quickly turned to their computer and typed something in. They took about twenty seconds before looking up.

"Logan is in room number 208." The receptionist replied. "Second floor on your right." they smiled slightly before Patton thanked them and quickly walked away, jogging slightly as he went up the stairs. He quickly located Logan's room and knocked on the door.

A voice unfamiliar to Patton answered and told him to come in. He went inside and found Logan was unconscious, which he shouldn't have found shocking. And he didn't. What he found shocking, and what brought him to let out a choked gasp and be pushed to almost sobbing, was the amount of bandages that covered Logan's body and the machinery he was attached to.

"You related to this poor kid?" The doctor asked in a soft but firm voice, drawing Patton's attention. Patton sniffled and blinked back tears.

"No, doctor. I'm his best friend. He had me as his emergency contact, though, so I was sent a message when he called." Patton said, fighting to keep his voice as steady as possible. The doctor nodded solemnly, pushing a strand of their long blonde hair out of their face and behind their ear.