Chapter Text
Elliott looked up and frowned a little as his partner got into bed. It was still light out, and when Elliott glanced at the clock, he confirmed it was still mid-afternoon.
“Dearest? What’s wrong?”
They didn’t answer, settling into their side of the bed and pulling the comforter over their face.
Elliott finished folding the shirt he held in his hands, and set it in the trunk on the floor next to him. Then he came to his side of the bed and slid in under the covers.
“Darling. Please, tell me what’s wrong?”
His fingers found their hand, clenched around the edge of the comforter, and curled around it.
They shook their head slightly.
He pulled closer, his voice dropping in volume. “Logan, please, just look at me.”
There was a pause, then slowly, the comforter came down, and Logan looked at him with wet eyes.
He moved his hand to cup the side of their face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”
Logan looked away and shook their head again, but their hands came up from the covers. “ Fine. Tell you before, fine. ”
Before? Elliott’s brow furrowed for half a moment before he realized. “Logan, if you don’t want me to go, you can tell me.”
Their eyes were on his again, almost fierce in their intensity holding his gaze. “ No. No, want you go. Want you… happy. Success. Proud you. Only… only want go with you. But stupid farm. ”
Elliott brought his other hand up, slipping it between their cheek and the pillow to cup their face entirely.
“Dearest. I am so proud of you. I am so proud of all you are accomplishing here on the farm. All you have accomplished. You’re amazing . And I understand . It’s hard, hard work. And it’s hard that you can’t even take a day off, let alone a week to come on my book tour with me. Understand me, I’d love to have you come with me. I’d love to spend a week just showing you around the world, let alone the country. I’d spend years showing you everything if I could. But I do understand, and I am just as proud of you and your work as you are of me and mine. I want you to be happy and successful. I’d give up writing forever if it meant you got that.”
Their eyes widened, and he was quick to cut them off before they could refuse. “I won’t, darling.” He stroked their cheek. “But that means you can’t give up, either.”
Their eyes were wet again. “I miss you.”
“I know. I’ll miss you, too.”
He felt the weight of their first time apart since being married settle over him, and his own eyes started prickling.
“I’ll be back. I promise, I will,” he whispered.
They huffed a laugh. “ Know. Know. ” They looked up with a small smile, and brought their own hand up to stroke his cheek.
He gave them a kiss on the forehead, lingering just a moment against the warmth of their tanned skin.
“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away.
“ I love you. ”
Chapter 2
Summary:
This is the "tough" part of the story. I don't go into a lot of detail or make things particularly bad, but do let me know if anything needs to be tagged.
Chapter Text
“Boss, it’s been dark for two hours , can we camp now?”
“Shut your piehole, we’re almost there.”
The men trudged on toward the boss’s promised pit stop.
As they came down the last hill, he said proudly, “This place has been empty for ages. It’ll give us much better shelter than a stupid lean-to.”
They walked across a bridge and onto a small farm. The boss frowned at the gentle light coming from a much-updated cabin.
“Looks like someone finally moved in, boss,” one of his lackeys snickered.
He growled, and headed for the house.
“Boss?” They followed quickly behind.
“Quiet. I just want to see who took our spot.”
They peeked into the window, where they saw a small someone getting ready for bed.
“Aw, it’s just a little twink. We can take ‘im, eh boys?”
*****
Elliott sighed as he got off the train and began the walk home. He was tired, bone weary, from the traveling and missing home and spouse.
He paused as he stepped onto the farmstead. It was late afternoon, so he could still clearly see the plants in front of the cabin.
But they were wilting?
He heard the cows and chickens mooing and clucking, sounding unhappy, in the distance.
He frowned, and started walking again, cautiously, to the front door.
“Logan?” He called as he stepped in. But then he stopped.
The house was a mess, and everything had been moved out of place.
For example, the table was now in the middle of the room, instead of by the window. But what was worse, there were three men sitting around the table, staring back at him.
Something flamed to life in his chest, a burning, roaring rage he had never been able to conjure while writing.
“Get. Out. Of. My. House.” he growled, teeth gritted, finger pointing harshly back out the door.
It was a miracle they listened, scurrying past him out of the cabin and away from the farm. After all, he wasn’t all that strong or imposing in any way.
But they must have heard his fury in his voice, seen in the tone of his stance that he would not make a fight easy on them. His rage was a new strength, and even these strangers knew not to test it.
As soon as they were out of sight, the fiery rage was gone, however, left by a black pit of fear and panic. Not even bothering to close the door or finish pulling his trunk inside, he rushed deeper into the house, checking the bedroom and the library before sprinting up the stairs.
He found Logan in the upstairs bedroom. He had always liked the sunny wallpaper they had chosen for what would become the bedroom of their child (or children). Now it stood in stark contrast, too bright and overwhelming against the image of his beloved bound to a chair, arms forced behind them, gagged and blindfolded with duct tape, head hanging against their chest and body sagging hopelessly.
He rushed forward, falling to his knees and reaching up to gently touch Logan’s face. Logan flinched back, and Elliott’s heart sank.
“Logan?”
But they didn’t respond, or react, now sitting taut, turned away from him, and he noticed the beeswax in their ears.
The rage sparked up again, this time in his throat, and he both wanted to chase after those men, and throw up.
Gently, he reached for Logan’s face again, and they sat still and terrified as he brushed a thumb over their cheek. It took them a second or two, but they then recognized the touch, and relaxed a little.
The process of removing the tape and beeswax took a good amount of time, because Elliott did so cautiously, trying not to hurt Logan at all.
Warm water and scissors helped release the tape from their skin, and the beeswax slid out easily.
They fell into Elliott’s arms when he had finished, sobbing quietly.
He held them, stroking their hair, as they sat on the floor, Logan in Elliott’s lap.
This was a longer process, during which both of them shed tears more than words. But finally, the cries and sobs died down, following the light from outside that had dimmed and then departed.
Elliott pulled them both shakily off the ground, and then scooped Logan into his arms.
As he started down the stairs, he noticed, in the dim light from the fireplace, that Logan was staring, eyes wide and wary.
He paused, stroking their shoulder. “Hey, I’ve got you. They’re gone, okay? I’ve got you.” His heart broke at the fear on their face. “Just look at my shirt, okay? You can point out all the frays if you’d like.”
They didn’t laugh, which nearly brought Elliott to tears again. But they did turn their anxious staring to his coat and tie.
He walked them down the stairs, past the wrecked kitchen, and out into the night.
As they made their way to Harvey’s, Elliott had to remind Logan a few times to look at his shirt, or look at a flower they passed, comforting them as he did so.
He shifted them in his arms to ring the clinic doorbell.
A scruffy, bed-headed Harvey came to the door. “Elliott? Logan?” he grumbled, not unkindly.
“Please, Harvey, Logan might be hurt, I need you to look over them.”
He glanced between the two of them - Elliott’s desperate face and Logan’s steady avoidance, curling into Elliott’s chest.
“Come in.” He stepped back.
*****
“There’s some bruising, but nothing broken.” Harvey said, gesturing for Elliott to follow him to the partition.
Elliott positioned himself in line of sight with Logan, who was still in the bed, listening to Maru talking gently to them.
“You need to tell the mayor,” Harvey said, his voice lowered, and Elliott looked at him in surprise. “He’d want, and maybe need, to know.”
“B-but…”
“—And, you need to separate for a moment. Maru and I will take care of Logan. But you will need to be there for them, and you need to be able to take a moment to yourself. Let yourself process this. This was a lot to come home to. Talk to the mayor, maybe visit a friend and let this out. Because Logan will need you to be strong, yes, but you needn’t be strong all the time, or alone.”
Harvey glanced at Logan. “They’re good friends with Sebastian and Emily, correct?”
Elliott nodded.
“If not tonight, then tomorrow, you need to tell them what happened. Leah and Willy, too. Let them help support both of you.”
Elliott nodded slowly, but still didn’t move, eyes turning back to Logan.
“Last time I left them alone…” he said quietly.
“I know. And both of you will need to work through that. But now’s as good a time as any. Like I said, Maru and I will be here for Logan. You can start healing by trusting that they’ll be okay when you’re gone by just going to tell the mayor. You can come back if being separated becomes too much. Just take a moment, Elliott.”
Harvey walked Elliott to the front door, gently guiding him, almost pushing him forward, while Elliott walked in something like a daze.
Chapter Text
Elliott looked up from his book, letting his hands settle on his lap as he straightened, stretching a little before leaning back against the railing of the porch stairs. He hadn’t taken in anything he’d been reading for a little while now, the warmth of the late-afternoon sun had sunk into his skin and left him contentedly mellow and drowsy; his thoughts had been effectively scattered and drifted in the haze of his mind with little conscious recognition.
He looked out to the field, where Logan was kneeling in the dirt, bent over one of the still-recovering plants. Reality came back to him, memories returning like a cold fog that pushed away the warm haze, leaving him wary and lost, rather than calm and content.
He set the book aside, standing and stretching, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He could see Logan, safe in their fields and in his sight. He could hear the animals, content with their full bellies and warm shelters. He knew the house behind him had been cleaned and the furniture put back in its place.
A cool evening breeze blew softly against his sun-warmed skin, and he shivered slightly as he let his arms fall back to his sides.
He started walking toward Logan, thoughts starting to drift toward dinner and gently prodding them away from their work.
But as he approached, he noticed a rigidity in their spine. Their movements were slowed, but also almost robotic, on auto-pilot.
“Logan?” he called gently.
They stiffened, looking up slowly, more with their eyes than with their head. Elliott’s heart sank at their wary expression, at how it took a moment for them to recognize him, their eyes clearing a little as their posture finally relaxed some.
“ Elliott? ”
“Hey, love.” He squatted next to them. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“ Cold. Night coming. Can’t… can’t see. ”
“Can’t see what, dear?” He slowly started reaching to gently pull them away from their work, rubbing circles into the dip of their shoulder.
“ Can’t see… people. ” They looked around them, toward the edges of the farm.
“You’re worried they’ll come back?”
They nodded.
Elliott chewed his lip, following their gaze to the trees surrounding their plot of land.
“What would make you feel safe?”
It took a while for Logan to answer, obviously unsure themself.
Finally, they turned to him, tugging lightly at his shirt.
Obligingly, and feeling some mixture of sadness and surprising relief, he wrapped his arms securely around them.
RobinOfSharewood on Chapter 2 Mon 10 Feb 2025 06:14PM UTC
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ldsbibliophile on Chapter 2 Wed 05 Mar 2025 06:52PM UTC
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RobinOfSharewood on Chapter 2 Sun 09 Mar 2025 12:45PM UTC
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