#scheduled that are going to have to be sedated and previously the boss has said multiple times not to put those on fridays when the tech

[californiaquail]

i need a new job!!!!!! goddamn it

[pllandcompany]

Out Loud (Part Four)

Summary: Hospital!AU. Logan has everybody fooled...or so he thinks. (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Warnings: mentions/description of drug use and addiction, poor self-care habits, undereating, anxiety, some swearing, blood, discussion of medical procedures, mentions of past violence/gun violence

Pairings: QPP Moxiety, Romantic Logince

Tagged: @ziallwarrior  @thefallendog  @jakesmolbean @trueunreal  @a-ghosts @band-be-boss-blog  @thecatchat  @flyingfreeyt  @apologieslogan

Notes: So this is probably the second to last installment. I'm ready to stop torturing poor Logan, dear Lord, boy has it rough. Fair warning, this is a long one but important, i think at least. Previous parts are in the summary if you need a refresher. As always, heed the warnings and enjoy!

"You've hardly touched your meal, my love." Logan looked up from his plate to meet concerned eyes and a worried grimace gracing his partner's face. "I apologize, Roman," he replied softly, guilt beginning a light pounding in his chest.

Roman didn't look assuaged in the slightest. "Is it not to your liking, dearest? I can make something else for you." He took Logan's hand and began rubbing the inside of his palm. Logan closed his eyes briefly at the warm, calming touch. "It's not that, Roman, your cooking is wonderful as always. It simply appears that I do not have much of an appetite this evening, that's all."

Roman's frown grew deeper. "Are you feeling sick? You should go rest, I'll make you some soup and bring it to you-"

"That won't be necessary," Logan held up the hand that was previously in Roman's soft grip, feeling the cold settle into his skin again. "I think I am just a bit over-tired." He stood to take his plate into the kitchen, taking care of the leftovers before rinsing the dish.

"Where are you going?" Roman barely fought the urge to whine.

"To lay down," Logan said from the kitchen, voice slightly raised. He walked out of the kitchen past Roman who, without warning, gripped his wrist so tightly it stole his breath. Roman's entire being seemed to be trembling.

“Don’t,” Roman gasped, the word tight with suppressed tears. Logan stared in earnest confusion and fear for how quickly the neurosurgeon was unraveling in front of him. “Don’t what, Roman?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t…disappear on me again. I just got you back. And I’m not even sure you’re all the way here. I need you. Please…don’t leave me.” The plea shook Logan to the core. Roman didn’t beg. He demanded, he decreed, he insisted, sure, but he never, ever begged for anything he wanted. Logan swallowed thickly, panic rising in his throat. He can’t sense that anything is wrong. I can’t let him see it. He lowered himself into Roman’s lap, straddling him and looping his arms around broad shoulders. He pulled them together for a passionate kiss, deep and slow, only pulling back when he felt the quivers of the younger man’s tears begin to slow. “I’m right here, Roman. I know I...went away for a while but I'm back now. You do not need to worry. I’m here.” Roman crashed their lips together a second time, the kiss more forceful and frantic. It left Logan’s head light and empty. He pulled away and rested his head on his lover’s chest, panting. Roman immediately began to fret again.

“Are you all right, mi amor? Was that too much for you? Oh, I really think you should eat something more, the amount you had wasn't nearly enough-”

Logan got up quickly, ignoring the way the room spun in front of him. “Shhh, calm, Roman, calm. You worry too much. I am adequate, I simply require some rest. Teaching Virgil is a taxing endeavor, you know how stubborn he is.” A light chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, drawing a small smirk from Roman. “There’s the smile I was looking for.” Logan leaned in for one last quick kiss, a sultry look spreading across his face. “Feel free to come join me when you’re ready. I could use some company.” He sauntered out of the room, holding himself together until the last possible second. Once he reached Roman’s bedroom, he slid down the back of the door and clutched his knees. The room rapidly became a carousel, whirling violently in his vision.

He needed more and he needed it now.

Logan crawled to his overnight bag and pulled out a medium sized manicure kit. He scrambled to his feet and into the lavish bathroom, quickly locking the door behind him. He opened the kit over the sink, careful not to spill anything onto the thick, red mat. Logan smirked to himself for being clever enough to hide his…materials in such an innocuous place, although the risk he was taking using in Roman's house was reckless enough to cancel that cleverness out completely. If he were to be caught...the consequences could be damning. At this moment though, Logan was desperate. He pushed the thoughts of being found out away from his brain as he loosened the (stolen) tourniquet and let the drug follow freely through this veins. He needed to relax. To forget. To erase the painful cacophony of loud chatter that was his mind. In a stroke of drug-induced brillance, Logan reached over to the bathtub and ran the hot water. Roman would think he was just taking a bath to relax and would patiently wait until he emerged from the bathroom, not even bothering to check on him.

Chalk another one up to him for cleverness.

He finally sunk to the floor and laid supine on the plush bathroom mat, the high crashing into him like the waves of a forbidden sea. Once the initial intensity ebbed away, he got up, ran his head under the faucet briefly and turned off the water. He quickly toweled his hair dry, packed up his manicure kit, and changed into his sleepwear, careful to pack the kit at the very bottom of his overnight bag. His limbs felt heavy as he slid into the queen-sized bed, sinking into the too-soft mattress and drifting into a sedated, dreamless sleep.

Moments later, Roman came upstairs and curled in next to his lover, not even noticing the small prick of blood that had dripped onto the red sheets from Logan's arm.

****

Virgil was, to say the very least, exhausted.

Not just tired. Deep down to the core of his bones exhausted. His hair hurt and his muscles felt like they were evaporating into the couch he laid on, groaning. Patton took pity on his tired comrade and walked over, going unnoticed by Virgil. He settled on the couch and lifted the trauma surgeon's feet to rest in his lap, earning a moan of protest that quickly turned to pleasure as the massage began.

"You are a godsend, Patton, I swear," Virgil mumbled, eyes lidded in relaxation. Patton blushed slightly from the praise. "Well, you just look so tired, I'll do anything to help. Logan's really running you ragged still, huh?"

"I'll say that. It's like residency all over again except this time I'm simultaneously running a department. You know, since...Dr. Copeland was..." Patton frowned, remembering the tragic passing of Virgil's supervisor on...that day. He shook his head of the unpleasant memory. "Well, how does that even work, Virge? You can't be in two places at once."

"Easy. Since Logan has me doing all of his surgeries, any traumas that come in that aren't cardiac get deferred to the fellow. And when I can supervise or need to adjust the schedule, I step in. If I'm free from Logan's service, then I go back to mine and take over surgeries."

Patton froze, horrified. "Virgil...that does not sound easy, that sounds awful! You're burning yourself out, how do you not see that?" Virgil spun his legs out of Patton's lap and sat up to face him, the foot rub having given him renewed energy. "I know it sounds crazy, Pat, but listen. The past few weeks have been...exhilarating. Learning new things, being in charge...look, I thought about what you said before. About a double speciality? I know I dismissed it at first but...I'm basically already running the trauma department now! If I keep this up and become a more well-rounded surgeon, maybe the Chief would take me seriously enough to promote me. I could be a permanent department head, not just a placeholder."

Patton took Virgil's hands into his own and squeezed. "Sweetheart. You are far more than just a placeholder. And you are valuable all on your own. You don't need extra specialties or a promotion to be taken seriously. Especially if getting there is going to take this much of a toll on you. I don't want to kill your dream if that's what you really want but only if you're happy and healthy doing it." Patton paused for a moment, recalling something Virgil said earlier. "Logan has you doing all of his procedures?"

"Well, yeah, but only the simple ones. Anything complicated gets deferred to his fellow."

Patton raised an eyebrow. That just didn't sound right. "So he's not operating at all?" Virgil blinked slowly as if he was just realizing the truth of Patton's words. "Yeah, I guess not...maybe he's just more focused on teaching for the moment? I mean, we're all still kind of easing our way back into normal life."

Patton clicked his tongue and folded his arms. "Except for you. You're leading two lives, doing the work of two surgeons."

Virgil shrank back. "Are you mad at me, Pat? I know I haven't been around as much but it's for a good reason." Patton sighed, taking his partner's hands a second time. "No, sweetheart, I'm not mad at you, I'm just worried about you...and Logan. It's weird that he's not operating at all."

"Is it weird that he isn't operating or is it weird that I am?" Virgil asked defensively, yanking back his hands. "You think I can't do this, right? Can't handle it, hmm?" Patton looked on shock. "No! Of course that's not what I'm saying!"

Virgil shook his head angrily, too keyed up to hear reason. "I don't get it. You were so damn excited when I first started this. You put the freakin' idea of department head in my brain and now that I actually want it, you think I can't do it! How about you make up your damn mind, huh?"

"Virgil Shea, I don't care how tired you are, I will not have you speak to me this way! You apologize this instant!" The trauma surgeon glared at Patton in stubbornness, recoiling when the older man returned the glare in spades. "You're right. I am tired. And jumping to conclusions. I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to be there for me."

Patton's expression softened considerably. "And I know you have trouble letting people do that sometimes. I'll forgive you...as long as you march yourself into that bedroom right now and sleep. You look dead on your feet...or butt since you're sitting." They both giggled as Virgil stretched, yawning and joints popping into place. He giggled a second time at Patton's disgusted frown at the noise. "Sorry, I know you hate that."

"It sounds like you're falling apart."

"It's because I am," Virgil said dryly, another yawn stealing his words. "Gonna go put myself back together with some sleep." He trudged away shuffling his feet before he paused and turned to face Patton again. "Thanks for always looking out for me, Pat."

Patton beamed. "Love you too, Virge." He watched Virgil's back fondly until he shuffled into the bedroom, leaving Patton alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that for once weren't bright and bubbly. Thoughts that he prayed weren't true but he felt almost certain they were. His smile dropped as his brain flashed the upsetting conclusion in neon lights.

It wasn't likely that he would end up being wrong but boy, would he give anything to not be right.

****

"You're doing very well, Dr. Davidson," Logan reassured, observing Virgil's work. "We should be done here soon." He glanced at the clock anxiously. "It is...taking a bit longer than expected but that is probably due to your lack of experience causing you to pause and take more of your time."

Virgil snorted. "Thanks for the constructive criticism, General. Heart-warming, truly." Virgil winced internally. "Oh God, no pun intended. Jeez, I've really gotta stop letting Patton rub off on me." Logan stole another look at the clock, obviously not absorbing anything that was just said. "You got somewhere to be, General? Is my slow pace holding you up?" Virgil chuckled behind his mask, hoping that Logan would catch the sarcasm. Instead, the older man flinched nervously and fixed the table with a wide-eyed stare. "No. I am fine. Pay attention." He spoke unusually firmly and Virgil would have responded with another sardonic retort...

If the patient's artery didn't blow right into his and Logan's face.

Oh my God, she's crashing, Virgil thought, panicked. Holy shit, okay Virge, what do you do, what do you do? "Dr. Taylor, a little help?" Virgil looked back to see a frozen Logan with his mouth gaping and fumbling to speak. "Logan! Focus! I need help, either step in or tell me what to do!" Logan couldn't hear him over the sound of firearms ringing in his ears. The blood that hit his face came from the body of David Bacall when police shot him in the head right in front of him and the gunshot looped over and over again, spraying him with more and more blood each time...

A steady beep of a regular heartbeat broke into Logan's senses. He blinked several times before registering Virgil's voice and the words that accompanied it.

"Never mind, Dr. Taylor, I secured the bleed. She's fine, I'm ready to close now." He sounded supremely irritated. Logan swallowed, still struggling to make his vocal cords work. "I see, Virgil. You did very well." Virgil barely fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, thanks for all of your help."

Once the surgery was over, Virgil snatched off his mask and confronted Logan while they were scrubbing out. "You wanna tell me what the hell that was in there? Was that some teachable moment or did you just not feel like doing your job today?"

Logan quickly turned to face the trauma surgeon, eyes flashing with anger. "Excuse me? It is my job to teach you."

"No, you made it your job to teach me. And now I wanna know why. Why have I been killing myself running two services while you just stand there and do nothing? Are you scared or what? What's the deal? I'm done covering for you, so spill."

"I don't have a deal, Dr. Davidson. I was trying to do you a favor and help you feel more confident in your abilities as a surgeon. I see now that my efforts are wholly unappreciated." Logan cut himself off to brace himself against the sink, panting slightly. "Perhaps it is best that this arrangement comes to an end."

Virgil frowned, ignoring Logan's dissolution of their practice. "Dude, are you okay? You're sweating. Oh God." Virgil lowered his voice. "Did you have an anxiety attack in there? Did I just ream you out for having PTSD? Oh God, Lo, okay. I won't say anything about this. Have you been seeing Nate? You know you need to talk to him if-"

"Virgil, stop! I am perfectly satisfactory. You have...have nothing to worry about." The room was spinning yet again. Logan prayed Virgil didn't notice.

"No...no you aren't, Lo. And I don't know what you're running from but you are running. And you need to face it before it catches up to you." Logan stared him down determinedly for what seemed like a full minute before he finally broke eye contact. Virgil remained calm and unmoved, eyes full of compassion and longing for his friend to tell him the truth. "Our work together is done," Logan said somberly. "You may go back to trauma." Virgil watched the cardiac surgeon exit briskly. He leaned against the sink himself, heart thudding in his chest as he tried to physically shake the intrusive thoughts from his head.

He knew exactly who he needed to see.

Virgil let himself into Patton's office and waited for him to respond to his page. Moments later the fetal surgeon came striding in, worry barely concealed by a tentative smile. "Hey, what's up? I got your page, are you all right?" Virgil stood and rapidly closed the door, almost slamming it. "You were right. Something is wrong with Logan. He froze in surgery today and when I confronted him about it, he practically fell apart right in front of me...he is definitely not okay. You were right, Pat."

Patton's smile slowly faded and he closed his eyes as if to block out the truth. "Is it-"

"Don't...say it. If you say it out loud, it makes it true and...I don't know if I'm ready to go there yet."

"Have you tried to talk to him?"

"You know I can't. I've accused him of this before, he'll use that against me and shut me out." Patton nodded. "I'll talk to him then."

"Are you sure, Pat? He might get..."

"I can handle it. Besides, he's not expecting me to talk to him. It might be an advantage. I'm okay, Virge, I got this." Patton nodded, a tentative smile crawling back onto his face.

"Okay, Pat. Let's avoid saying anything to Roman until we're sure. If we're right...this will crush him."

"I know, Virge. First priority is Logan."

"We have to fix this." Virgil sounded choked. Patton's eyes widened and he pulled the taller man into his chest, warming him with his embrace.

"We will try our best to, Virge. We will definitely try."

****

Logan was grateful that he had gotten quick at this. Patton had ended up at his door much sooner than he calculated after the bubbly doctor paged him asking for a visit. Normally, using at work was to be avoided at all costs but this time, it was justified if he was to bear the sunshiny disposition of Dr. Patton Parker today. After disposing of his materials in a hazmat bag, Logan leaned back in his desk chair, bracing himself for a loaded conversation. A soft knock at the door came moments later and in walked Patton, a dimmed smile dancing across his lips.

"Hiya, Logan."

"Dr. Parker. You appear to be...subdued."

"Me?" Patton pointed to himself. "No, of course not. I was just thinking."

Logan made a noise of mild disbelief. "I see. If you've come to defend Virgil, I'm sorry but I am no longer the right person to teach him-"

"Calm down, Logan. This isn't a confrontation. Just a...visit! But since we're on the topic, Virgil has truly had a wonderful time with you. He's learned so much and he has this new drive; it's honestly incredible to watch."

Logan shrugged. "I'm sure he won't be singing my praises after today. I'm assuming he told you and that's why you're here? To check on me?" Patton pursed his lips and tutted in mock annoyance. "Again, no. Can't I just want to visit a friend? Besides, we all have off days in the OR. It happens." A moment of silence went between the two before Patton continued. "You know, I was never cut out for cardiothoracics."

Logan's eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry? What do you mean?"

Patton smiled warmly as he spoke. "When I was in med school, I struggled to find my way...a lot. It felt like everyone else around me knew exactly what they wanted and I was the only loser wandering around a lab with no goals. It got me to a point where I didn't really...value my life, so to speak. Then I had my first OB rotation and got to assist with a live birth. That, for me...was like a light bulb turning on in my head. When I handed that baby over to the mother, I thought: 'This person could cure cancer or bring about world peace and I just helped bring them into the world safely.' And I just knew after that I had found my purpose. What better way to appreciate the value of my life than making sure another life gets off to a solid, healthy beginning? It couldn't have felt more right."

Logan nodded in a slow and slightly exaggerated expression, feeling the drug slow his movements and thinking. "That's...lovely, Patton but I'm not sure..."

"Just let me finish, Lo. My point is...I was too soft for cardio. And that's fine because I love what I do. Virgil isn't cut out for cardio either, by the way. He's good at it because he's brilliant but he belongs in trauma. He knows what it's like to start with nothing and come back stronger and he takes every patient that he saves coming through those ER doors on that journey expertly. He is a trauma surgeon. But you? You were built for cardio, wouldn't you agree?"

Logan looked down to fiddle with his tie. "Knew I wanted to be surgeon my whole life. Cardio came in college."

"Exactly. You cardio folks are so similar. You're driven and decisive, hyper-intelligent, disciplined, in love with the medicine, maybe a bit of a know it all at times and you know what you want and you go for it, 110 percent. But you know what else you are? Highly responsible. And of course you are, you have to be, you literally hold life in your hands. You sleep a perfect eight hours before surgery, you exercise, hydrate, nourish yourselves regularly and save lives all without missing a beat. That is you, Logan. Or was you."

Logan's head shot up at that. "Was?"

Patton fixed Logan with an intense look, one that had him squirming slightly. "Mmhmm. So I have to wonder: what would make someone suddenly fall out of love with their purpose? What would make a cardio surgeon not operate? What would make them come to work constantly exhausted, drawn out from skipping meals and lack of sleep? What would make them give up their discipline? Sounds pretty irresponsible, right? Except it doesn't. Because if a responsible, medicine-obsessed cardiothoracic surgeon was on drugs, he wouldn't dare touch a patient. But he wouldn't stray too far from the medicine either." Logan's eyes widened in shock. "You-you can't be suggesting-"

"You're high right now, aren't you?" Patton's tone was far from condemning, a sad sort of sympathy coloring his words. Logan was staring down at his desk, his entire body trembling as his carefully constructed wall came tumbling down. "What you're accusing me of is-"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Logan. I'm not going to go running to the Chief, I'm not going to threaten you with rehab. I just want you to know that I know. And I'm here. I can help you, we all can help you."

"I am handling it myself. I can handle it."

"Logan Taylor, if you think I believe that for a second, you're deeper in denial than I thought. You can't handle this alone. And you shouldn't. At all. You need your people in your corner." Patton watched the other surgeon's head dip slightly, a fresh wave of tears spilling over his cheeks before he looked up again, chest heaving. "Please...don't tell Roman. I'm not...he can't...he can't know."

"You need to be the one to tell him, I agree but if this goes too far...I will do whatever it takes to save your life. Know that, Logan."

You shouldn't, Logan thought bitterly. "I am handling this, Patton."

The fetal surgeon sighed and nodded, accepting the small progress they made today. He stood to leave, conceding his final point to his colleague. "All right, Logan. I'm not gonna push you. Not today. Today you rest. Tomorrow, we start fresh, okay?" Logan nodded wordlessly, not even looking as Patton exited. He walked over to his window, drew the blinds, and collapsed on the couch, simultaneously feeling nothing and everything all at once. A chilling, insidious numbness froze him at the core and settled into his bones, locking him in place. He couldn't even bring himself to cry anymore; the numbness was far too overwhelming.

If the drugs were supposed to take away the pain, then why did he still hurt so much?