Thanatos [OPEN]

Logan stayed by the door, watching her wheel out into the winter air, zipping up his jacket stiffly and leaning against the glass. He stood, breathing into his hands, his eyes intent on her, his shoulders glued to where he stuck despite the clear signs she was cold. If he interrupted her moment, she would kill him. He smiled, exhaling puffs of smoky air that whipped across his face in the wind.

After a few moments, he finally called to her. "Come on, that's enough," he said. "I'll make you some cocoa, let's go back inside." He stayed as still as he could as to hide the tremor in his own body, his arms sticking straight down against his frame, buried low in his pockets.

If she tried to race off, how far would she get?

Jane grinned. Maybe ten, twenty feet, before he came running into the cold after her, cursing under his breath. Or maybe he'd let her go, watch her wheel off into the darkness. Either would be entertaining. Would he manage to knock her out of the chair? Slip on the ice? Maybe she'd go skidding down past the dorm halls, and all the night owls could watch their little romcom cliche. The corpse girl humored the idea for ten seconds or so too long before she let it go. She let out one last shuddering, shivering breath and maneuvered the wheelchair back around with a practiced deftness, rolling her way back into the infirmary. Her prison. Cocoa, sure, and she'd stay here for now, but she wouldn't sleep her. Not again. She'd guzzle down all the adderall they had locked away before she'd close her eyes in that fucking cot one more time.

"Marshmallows, doc," she ordered. The cold clawed at her from behind in the relative warmth of the infirmary, as if beckoning her back out. "Cream. The whole works. I'm a Mainer. You got to do it right and do it fancy if you wanna impress me."

Right now, what she most wanted was another glass of water. And fuck, she was starving. Weakness sapped at her as she made her way across the tile, her arms straining with every push at the wheels.

Logan's chest loosened as she turned around, his breath easing out of a light smile. He didn't need to bargain his right hand to get her inside. He moved out of Jane's way, stepping back against the door and subsequently closing it behind her, trapping the cold outside in a clap of stillness. "I've been feeding you through a tube for two weeks," the boy responded to her demands, turning on a lamp by the window, a small draft leaking through to his feet. "You'll take what I give you." He straightened up and smiled.

Throwing his coat across his chair, he disappeared into the back room, past Madison's ajar door, where the small infirmary kitchen was tucked like a niche in a wall. Powdered cocoa was standard supply for the infirmary, and they had practical buckets of it, boxes stacked neatly in a tote that never seemed to empty as much as fill slightly more every month.

Ripping open the cardboard, he poured a packet into an I ❤ New York mug, chipping slightly across the handle, the heart marred with jagged white lines that emulated the cup's background. It was old. Logan filled the cup with milk, and as he swirled the contents together, he placed his chin in his hand, wondering who loved New York and how they ended up so far away in North Dakota. Why did they leave behind this souvenir? Had they ever returned? Perhaps they bought another one once they realized they'd left it, or perhaps they never made it back home.

He could have saved them. He would have saved him. Why did it take him so long? Why did so many people have to die before him?

He didn't realize he had been falling asleep until his head hit the table with a hard smack, the spoon clattering out of the mug.

Food. When was the last time she ate food, not liquid in a tube or mulch spooned into her face? She felt paper-thin, pale wax dripped over a broken skeleton. Jane's eyes flicked over the contours of her fingers, flexing out her palm as she was rolled back inside. "Uh-huh. Whatever, doc. Make it gourmet or else." He disappeared off into the backroom, and then she was alone, staring into her hand. Her hair was still left in a pile by the window, drips of dropped blood leading out from her cot. She only had the lamp light.

She heard a muffled thump and something clatter away in the other room, but if he was dead, she wasn't in a hurry to check.

Sprinting to the infirmary, Jake had never run faster in his life.

Being a night owl, the Autumn was used to his usual evening routine. Get back from school, in which he had to stay extra late because of detention, make some coffee or maybe a drink from his secret stash if it was needed, and hunker down on his bed to do "homework," although he never actually did it and waited till the next morning to cram it in. The tall student had changed into his so called PJs and for an hour or so, he watched senseless videos of people playing his favorite games on a streaming app. Now, tonight was supposed to be a normal night but when one of his dorm-mates had mentioned Jane recovering, he'd shot of his dorm faster than a speeding bullet.

She was recovering? Overwhelmed with emotions that he didn't know how to deal with, all he knew was that she was alright and that was all that really mattered.

So here he was, running through the school hallways in his boxer shorts with no shoes and a only a tank top on. It was getting pretty late and he was surprised that there would be so many other students wandering the halls at this our. Luckily for him he'd managed not to plow right through a couple of students and managed to stay on his feet. After a few minutes of almost getting lost and trying to remember where the infirmary was, the tall student finally found it and opening the door, was finally able to catch his breath. Jane... where was she. Looking around, it took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darker room but after a few moments he found her.

Scrambling to get to the bed and not accidentally knock something over, he'd had never been more happy to see her. "Jane?" the low voiced student asked softly, his heart not racing as much as it was five seconds ago. Grabbing a chair, the abnormally tall student easily picked it up and put it next to the bed where Jane laid, content to just be beside her again.

"Oh God, I thought you'd never wake up," he added, running his hand through his black, ruffled hair. Who knew that just a brief dash through the halls could mess up someone's hair so much.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Logan leaned with his back against the counter, his hand falling across his face, swiping his bangs fruitlessly against gravity. Perhaps he was getting a little too emo about every. Jane was awake. He was alive, and gifted with a miraculous power. He could save everyone. No one would die so long as he was there.

The boy took the mug from the microwave, letting out whispers of ooh and aah as he quickly set it onto the table, opening a squeaky drawer and withdrawing a towel. Whisps of smoke poured out of the cheap hot chocolate, watery bubbles surrounding the surface with crispy, undissolved crumbs of chocolate. Logan was quick to take the spoon, which had been sitting on a napkin placed upon the table, and make a few quick cycles in the drink before talking it out.

Perhaps in his craft, he did not notice the other voice. Logan walked backwards, pushing through the curtain to the front part of the room. "Here you go, one gourmet Mainer hot chocola--"

He spun, and saw Jake. He stood there for a moment, smiling a hard smile, his dimples furrowing. "Is this a friend?" he asked the girl, not looking at her but rather at him, placing the cup on her nightstand. His bangs had fallen again, frumping across his forehead.

He burst through the door.

Yeah. She'd wondered the same thing. Was that as good as death? Shouldn't she have been glad? Jane didn't look at him for long, just gave him the same old light smile and returned her eyes to her palm. "You look less dressed than I do," she said oh-so-softly. He looked like he'd thrown himself right out of bed. How had he known? Did word spread that fast?

Long live the queen, or something.

Ah, and here was the cocoa. She finally lifted her head.

"Something like that. Logan, meet Jake. Jake, meet Logan."

Hearing some footsteps, Jake turned around to see a brunette haired kid holding a cup of what smelt like hot cocoa. Who was this guy? Opening his mouth to reply, Jane spoke up and he snapped his head back so he was looking at her again. That was the first time he'd heard her voice in what felt like ages and trying not to show how happy he was to be in her presence, Jake simply gave a smile.

Cheeks turning red from her comment, the tall student put his hands on his legs. Shit, how did he forget to get dressed or at least put some pants on? Guess I was just a bit too anxious to get here, he reminded himself.

About to reply, Jane spoke again and he shut his mouth once more. Wait, something like that? What was that supposed to mean? Confused and heart still pounding, Jake looked up to the guy that had set the mug down, a brow slightly raised. So what, was this guy something more than a friend? Clenching his fist and carrying about formality, the Autumn gave curt nod to the guy. "Nice to meet ya," I guess.

Logan's smile was arid as he put up his hand to shake Jake's, but promptly let it fall back to his side, eyeing the boy's fist. His smile only widened. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead. "Nice to meet you too," he mused warmly, leaning against the front of his desk. The top hit his lower back, too tall to sit on, and he made due with gripping the sides. His eyes glistened, far from the dusty, weary ones that shut abruptly at the table just moments prior. A red bump plateaued from his temple.

"We were just about to catch up," he said. In an autopilot, his gaze hardly went to Jane. He coughed on a dry throat. "I hadn't seen her in months, we have a lot to discuss."

Discuss. Right. Just catching up. The quaint little exchange felt coldly disconnected from the rest of the room, from everything that'd just happened. She'd blinked in September and when she opened her eyes it was December. There was a dull hollow ache underneath her bandages, where her eye should've been. So yeah, a lot to discuss. A lot of catching up. Like hi, how do you do, crazy weather right? Jane just steepled her fingers over her lap, trying to mimic serenity as best she could in a hospital gown with a half-dressed Abercrombie model on her left and a munchkin on her right, noting the tension and stiffness in the greeting. "Well," she said, her voice still strained and hoarse from lack of use, grabbing at her steaming mug of hot chocolate. Her smile twitched. "How sweet."

She sipped at it, not looking at either of them.

A lot to discuss? If him getting in trouble wasn't an option he would've punched this guy right through a window. And what the hell? He'd never seen this guy before, much less around Jane, so what was his deal? And what was up with Jane? Yeah, she'd just woken up after her comotose state but even so, he'd never seen her look more depressed and defeated.

Wondering what had happened to the girl and trying not to kill someone, Jake let out a sigh. "Well, I ain't leaving any time soon so if ya'll have something important enough to say, then start chattin'. If not, I guess it can wait till later," the low voiced student said sarcastically, sitting back in his chair. "So, how's life? Considering... everything that happened," he asked Jane, turning his gaze to her.

Logan licked the chap from his lips, but couldn't wrestle the wry glare from his eyes, boosting himself onto the front of his desk. "That's fine," he lied, hooking his heels onto the protrusion at the foot of the desk. Perhaps he'd gotten too hostile over the whole thing. Nevertheless, he gave Jane an awkward glance, raising his eyebrow for a moment and tightening his lips. He leaned back with a bit of a sigh, yawning and blinking at the dark skies outside.

Ha. Stubborn, wasn't he? Jake wasn't budging an inch. Jane's expression didn't flicker as she turned her head to stare at him, one hazel eye boring into his brown gaze. If he wanted to talk, then she'd talk. It'd been so long since she'd talked. "Life," she repeated, dry and rasping. "Considering someone put twelve inches of steel through my skull? You mean that?" The corner of her lip twitched, but her smile remained frozen on her face. Her voice stayed soft and level, barely above a whisper. "Life's been great. I've never felt better. Thank you for asking, Jake. How have you been?"

He should've known she's give some smart ass remark. Well, then again, what else was she supposed to say? Locking eyes with her, he wasn't going to let a girl's ice cold gaze get the better of him, that would've just looked stupid on his part. "Well, unlike you with your sunshine and rainbows, life's been pretty shitty for me, thank you very much," he replied in a sarcastic tone, one in which accidentally came out as more pissed than he wanted it to.

Looking from Jane to the other guy, Jake raised a brow. "And who's the fifth grader?" Jake asked bluntly, not really caring at this point if he got a snippy remark or not. Then again, when did he ever care about what sort of reply he got?

"The fifth grader is the school doctor," Logan cut in icily, his fingernails scraping at the desk. His eyes were just as sharp. "I'm the person who you'll go to if you hurt yourself, so I think you shouldn't call me that again." He smiled but it was vacant of humor, venom seeping from his pale lips, his sunken eyes. He was more powerful than God, a god in himself. He wasn't about to be intimidated by some lanky, half-dressed clod. The desk had begun to bear small valleys where his fingers had dug, the wood splintering and digging into his fingers with each scratch. Blood began to trickle down the face of the desk, but his fingers seemed unharmed with each recoil, each return across the ever growing marks.