The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Thirty-One: Losing Myself-

A/N: *Still hiding behind hands* 

    I stayed at the hospital all night, occasionally dosing off in the waiting room's chairs. It wasn't exactly comfy, but the thought of seeing Logan kept me there. So when visiting hours finally re-opened at eleven, I raced to Logan's door as fast as I could. But once I got there, my whole energy changed. 

    At first I was feeling slightly excited, but as soon as I peered in through the tiny window, I realised that Logan really was in a coma. My excitement dwindled into nothing but regret, as I opened the door and wandered into the room, quietly. 

    I tried to pretend that he was simply asleep, but the noises of the machines and the tube in his mouth, that was helping him breathe, kept reminding me otherwise. Reminding me that he was asleep, but it was a sleep he wasn't going to wake up from. Despite overhearing what the doctors had said about Logan's situation, I still tried to believe that he would somehow make it through this. That I'd be able to hear his voice again. 

    He had to pull through. He had to.

    I slid one of the two chairs in the room, over to Logan's side and sat down. My eyes scanned across each and every thing inside the room. Pausing as they came across the small TV-like monitor, that showed his heart rate. I placed my hand on the bed by his, unsure about whether or not to hold his hand. I wanted to, so desperately, but I was afraid Logan might not. I'd let him down, after all. God knows how he felt about me now. 

    I decided to not think about that, and held his hand anyway. I couldn't fight the urge to. I was careful not to move his arm too much, or to knock the little object on his index finger, that was monitoring his pulse. The beeping of the monitors and the noise of the ventilator, were daunting, in a way. 

    His face looked pale, especially in contrast with his dark hair, that clung to his forehead, messy and unwashed. I wanted to see his eyes open, but I knew I probably never would, not ever again. I brushed the pad of my thumb over the skin of his hand, in comfort. I hoped he could feel it, letting him know I was right there with him.

    "I'm so sorry, Logan," I began in a quiet whisper. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I was just so scared of losing you." A tear rolled down my cheek, but I made no effort to wipe it away. "I didn't know how to deal with it. I was so stupid, I'm so sorry." My voice had grown a little louder now, breaking on the last two words. 

    I lowered my head and wished for a reply. I wanted to hear Logan tell me it would all be okay. I wanted to be curled up at Logan's side in his bed, and this to all be a nightmare that he would wake me up from. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't be. It all happened too fast. The fact that it happened at all was surreal enough. 

    "I should have been there for you, I know that," I wiped at my nose, shaking my head. "I broke my promise. I promised you I'd come back and I didn't. Fuck," I breathed, swallowing against the lodge in my throat. "You have to come back, Logan."

    I tried to tell myself that he wasn't gone yet. That he was still here, because I was holding onto him. His hand was warm, and I could feel his pulse. He was still here. He was just in a deep sleep. It was too hard to try and believe that he would wake up. Especially when the doctors didn't even see a possibility of it happening. But I had to believe. I couldn't give up like they had. 

    "Logan please," I whispered, resting my forehead gently by his hand, on the bed. "Please come back." 

    I lifted my head up quickly as I heard the door to his room opening. I was a little taken off guard to see his mother standing there, watching me with about as much surprise as I was to see her here. It shouldn't really have been that shocking to me, since she was his mum and she was here the night before, too. I just never anticipated us to be in the room at the same time.