Reason To Live

He feels as if he's floating. He can barely feel his body, his legs are numb, his chest, his arms. His very soul seems to be floating further and further away from his physical form and as it does he feels less and less alive.

His breath is coming shorter and lighter, longer and longer gaps between each. His life hangs by a thread, he can tell, a thread he can make into a rope if only he tries.
But for what? What does he have to live for? A father who thinks of him as a tool to use in order to achieve his own ends? Friends who let him jump off a cliff drunk? A girlfriend who's barely spoken to him in weeks? Nothing. He has nothing worth fighting for. The only thing he ever had was her. Now all he has is the cold, hurting shell of what once was his gorgeous, vibrant girlfriend.

He drifts in and out of consciousness and as he does he notices a presence beside him, a pressure against his left hand, moisture settling on his cold fingers. His ears pick up the slow consistent beeping of a nearby machine and the sound of heartbreaking sobs. Who was crying? They seemed in such pain. He wondered briefly what it was that caused them to cry with such evident pain and then he decided he didn't care. He just wanted to let go…have it all just drift away and let him be at peace. Why couldn't he just die? Why wouldn't he leave this place?

A fresh noise broke through the depressing haze around him, a voice. A voice he recognised.

"Logan please," it sobbed. "Please, wake up." A fresh wave of tears, for that's what they were, settled against his hand.


"Logan please, I love you, don't die. You can't!" she cried breaking down again, her sobs drowning out whatever else she tried to say to him.

He felt himself stop floating and drift ever so slowly towards his physical form. His hand twitched under hers but she didn't notice. The sound of her tears hurt him more than hitting the rocks at the base of the cliff had, or maybe that was just the morphine.

"Rory." His lips formed the word but no sound came out. He sighed internally, wishing it would just end, this out of body experience was unnerving. He wished it would just end. One way or another.

Then he heard her voice again. The voice that always made him smile but now made his heart ache at the pain so obviously in it. "Logan, please," she murmured tiredly and he felt her lips against his knuckles before her head fell to the side and her soft hair played gently against his arm.

A sharp pain shot through his chest as he took a deep breath. Another sharp pain, another breath. Slowly breathing got easier and more background noises became apparent to him. The sound of trolleys rolling past, rushing feet and sirens, ringing phones, detached voices and arguing could be heard, but never silence.

She was still there, he could feel her fingers now, clenched tightly around his, not lessening her grip even in her sleep. He wondered absentmindedly what she was dreaming about. Whether she was dreaming about him or, he shuddered to think it, someone else. His question was answered a moment later.

"But I love him mom…yes I'm talking about Logan." He felt himself come more alive with every word she spoke. She told him often, that she loved him, but hearing her say it like this, in her sleep, was so much better. "Yes mom, no not now," she continued, adjusting her head against his arm. It amazed him that even in her sleep she could talk that fast. He reached across himself and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He stroked her hair deep in thought and quickly lost track of time. Before he knew it her eyes flickered open and she yawned loudly.

"Whatcha dreamin' 'bout Ace?" he asked softly.

Her head shot up so fast he was afraid her neck would snap. "Logan?"

"Yeah Ace, I'm here," he said smirking at her.

"Oh my God! You're ok!" Tears fell from her eyes as she looked at him covered in bandages hooked up to beeping machines. "Are you ok?" she asked worriedly as she reached out to touch the bruises on his face.

"Yeah, I'm good," he murmured, his eyes shutting as her fingers came into contact with his skin.

"Logan, are you sure?" she asked. "Maybe I should go get a doctor…" She started to walk out but he grabbed her arm.

"Not yet," he murmured pulling her closer to him. "I feel fine; the meds are doing their job."


"No buts now come here." He pulled her up to sit on the hospital bed with him. "All I need is you," he whispered placing her hand up to rest on his cheek.

"Logan we really should-" she began but he cut her of again.

"Aren't you sick of doing 'what you should'?" he asked her softly. "I'm sorry Rory, for everything I did, please don't leave me. Not here, not ever."

She nodded and lay down next to him on his small hospital bed. His eyes drifted closed as his body fought to heal the wounds he had inflicted on himself. He thanked whoever was listening for the beautiful girl that lay beside him, holding his hand in hers. He thanked whoever was listening for this reason to live.

A/N: press the review button and tell me what you think! please and thank you :)