41Summary- "Please wake up, Kendall. You've been asleep for months now, and they've sent you to the part of the hospital where patients come to die. Try to wake up for me?" The one in which Logan is the nurse in charge of tending to the near-death patients and Kendall is a comatose patient sent to his wing of the hospital. Will Kendall wake up before the hospital gives up on him? (I suck at summaries. Read it please?)
Pairing: Logan/Kendall
Rated: M for language and future chapters
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own anything except for the plot!
Reviews are appreciated! :D
"Hello, Mr. Knight," Nurse Mitchell greeted, wheeling in his cart of assorted medicines and toiletries. Mr. Knight, as the nurse was supposed to refer to him by, didn't return his greeting. "They got you on this new stuff. It's stronger and supposed to wake you up sooner, or so they say."
Nurse Mitchell, more well known as Logan, injected the patient's new (and improved, as the doctor had told him, although Logan doubted this would help-just like the last 20-something medicines didn't) prescription in through his IV tube.
The dark haired boy tried not to let his eyes linger on the sleeping man's blonde tresses that looked so so soft, not that he dared to touch them. He found himself wondering what color the patient's eyes were and what his voice sounded like and if he had dimples when he smiled or if his laugh was as cute as he imagined it or if his eyes would light up when he said Logan's na-
"Mitchell, hurry up! You have more patients to tend to!" he heard the all too familiar voice of his fifty-something year old boss, Mr. Anderson, yell. Always yelling, always angry. Logan couldn't remember the last time he had laughed. Come to think of it, Logan didn't recall ever seeing the older man so much as smile. Usually just smirks when he knew he'd scared Logan into doing something again. The amount of bedpans I've changed preceding those smirks, Logan thought.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered. Logan took one last glance at the sleeping blonde before pushing his cart out the doorway.
Logan went about his job, making sure all of the patients took their medicine in some way, shape, or form.
"Hello again, Mrs. Collins." Logan tried to hide the annoyance in his voice because sure, he loved Mrs. Collins (she was a nice old lady, after all) but one could only take so much of her silly requests before they went mad. She was always ringing her little buzzer they had installed for when she needed something. "What do you need?"
"I just like your company, dear," she explained.
"Well, I like your company too, ma'am, but-"
"Would you mind sitting with me for a little while?" she asked. She looked at him with her pleading eyes, causing Logan to sit down in the chair by her bed. Mrs. C. told the best stories, though Logan wasn't sure how many of them were actually true. While surviving the second World War by fighting off the Nazi's with nothing but your bare hands sounded cool, there wasn't a huge chance of that actually happening-especially to an 11-year-old girl. But Logan listened anyway, because they shriveled old lady in front of him was a spectacular story teller, and as long as she was having fun, so was he.
Upon concluding her story about backpacking across Europe when she was in her early thirties ("my boobs were still perky and so was I!"), she shocked Logan with a question no one had yet asked him at the hospital, or well, ever.
"What's it like, Logan? Dying, I mean. Is it gonna hurt?"
Logan didn't know what dying was like-of course he didn't. But the elder in front of him only had weeks left, and Logan could imagine she was a bit scared.
"I, uh, I wouldn't know, ma'am. I'd assume it wouldn't. Why would God punish us while we're leaving?" He assumed that was as good of an answer as any. Logan didn't think too much about God or death or any of that, but he knew that Mrs. Collins was very religious, and he wouldn't dare upset her.
"I suppose."
"Try not to think too much about it. You got plenty of time left before you need to worry. In fact, don't worry. You're gonna end up in Heaven as a pretty little angel, looking down on your family, protecting them an' all," Logan promised.
"I hope so."
"I know so," Logan said. "Now, I need to get back to work. But thank you for the story, ma'am. I really liked it."
"Anytime, Logan. You be good now!"
"I will."
"God, Mr. Knight, you look so fragile," Logan observed. The younger boy had yet to wake up from his comatose state, but Logan talked to him anyway. After all, he did learn in school that sometimes the patients could hear you, even if they were in a coma. "If you can hear me, you'll be happy to know you get a cheeseburger today. Of course, it's ground up into a liquid, but- um, a cheeseburger's a cheeseburger, I guess. It's kinda funny, all this. I mean, you're only- what? 22? 23 years old? I just turned 24, and I'm spending my younger years feeding comatose patients through a tube. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Knight, I don't mind taking care of you. You're such a good listener." A chuckle. "But you, my friend, have spent the last few months sleeping. Lucky bastard."
Logan tried to pour the food down the patient's feeding tube.
"This seems to get harder every time we try this, Mr. Knight. I don't see why..." Logan trailed off. He noticed a clip board on the side table by his bed; the top of the page reading 'Patient: Kendall Knight.' "Kendall: that's a nice name. I like it. It suits you." He tried once again to get the food down Kendall's throat.
"My boss told me that you got in a car accident that injured your spinal column, or something like that. He said that's why you're sleeping right now. He also said you might not wake up," Logan explained. He took a deep breath. "I don't believe him. You gotta wake up, Mr. Kni- er, Kendall. I'd be really sad if you were asleep for the rest of your life. I'm sure your family would be sad, too. Your mom came by and visited you the other day. She said you smiled at her. That was nice of you. I wish you'd smile at m- Swallow your damn lunch, Kendall! .. Th-there ya go.. Anyways. Maybe this new medicine they gotcha on will help a little. It's supposed to, like, jump start your brain waves or something. It's got like caffeine in it and stuff. I suggested we feed you some Mountain Dew or something, but I guess that was a 'dumb idea' on my part."
Logan finished feeding Kendall and went on to change his sheets and brush his teeth before fixing up the cart again.
"Please wake up, Kendall. You've been asleep for months now, and they've sent you to the part of the hospital where patients come to die. Try to wake up for me?" Logan waited for something: a twitch, a smile, anything. He always waited a couple extra seconds before he left Mr. Kni- Kendall's room just in case. Kendall never did anything, but that didn't mean Logan couldn't hope. He had to wake up sometime, didn't he?
Logan knew the answer to that, and no, he didn't have to wake up. He couldn't help but feel some weird emotional pull towards the boy. Logan knew he wasn't awake-hell, he probably won't even wake up in the near future-but he had to keep trying.
"Bye, Kendall! See you around dinner time! I'll letcha in on a little secret.. Tonight you're getting mashed potatoes!" Logan exclaimed. "Well, blended in your case."