A/N. I know I said I was going to work on, "All Of Me", but to be perfectly honest, my heart hasn't really been in it. i'm going to try though, okay? Promise. in the meantime, here's the beginning of what was meant to just be a drabble I wrote and posted on Tumblr. It's a prologue of sorts and after much encouragement, I decided to work it up into a story. Please bear with me while I get back into writing mode. I hope you enjoy this to start with and as always, thank you.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Kendall cannot stop shaking. Every time he closes his eyes, even to blink, he sees the scene play out before him all over again, and a shudder rips throughout his entire body. This is bad. This is really bad.
Sitting next to him, his mother is holding a distraught Katie in one arm and gently running the fingers of her free hand through his hair. His helmet hair. The blond strands are still damp and sticky with sweat, not something she's usually fond of. That's another sign of how bad this is. She doesn't even notice the state of his hair.
Carlos is sitting on his other side, unusually quiet. He's finally stopped crying, but his face is still pale and wet with tears, and his eyes are red rimmed and swollen. He looks so terrified and part of Kendall aches to reach out and comfort him, but his own fear has created a wall all around him and he can't get to anyone. James is pacing frantically around the waiting room, glancing at the clock on the wall every two minutes. His face is whiter than the walls around them and every once in a while he stumbles slightly, but he never stops. He's been pacing since they arrived at the hospital over an hour ago, and Kendall briefly wonders if it really is possible for someone to literally wear through a floor just by walking.
There are more people with them: James' parents and Carlos' father (his mother is home with his younger sisters), the entire hockey team and their coach… they're getting stared at, but none of them really notice or care at all. Their thoughts are elsewhere. A grey-haired doctor approaches them and everyone, with the exception of James who is already on his feet, stands up. Kendall stares hard at him, trying to read him. Doctors must learn how to master the poker face though, because he can see absolutely nothing.
"Family of Logan Mitchell?" he asks, looking around at all of them.
Kendall feels his mother squeeze his shoulder right before she answers. "That's us," she says in a dry, choked whisper. "I'm his mother, Jennifer Knight."
The doctor consults his notes. "Knight?" he repeats.
"I adopted him three years ago," she tells him, beginning to sound strained. "This is my other son, Kendall, and my daughter, Katie." Then she gestures to the others. "Best friends and their parents, hockey team and coach. Anything you tell us, they can hear. They're family too."
The doctor nods slowly. "How about if I tell the three of you privately and have one of my nurses tell the rest?" he suggests in a quiet voice. "What I have to say is not going to be easy to hear." "
Where's Logan?" Kendall demands as his mother weakens against the force of the doctor's words.
"In room 201… But, Kendall-"
He doesn't listen. Kendall pushes the doctor aside and leaves all of them behind. He doesn't care about anything but Logan right now. He needs to see his brother. It occurs to him that he has no idea how bad things truly are, but if he waits one more minute, he'll lose control. That's something Kendall cannot afford. He promised himself he wouldn't cry ever since it happened. When Logan was knocked from behind so hard that his helmet flew off, part of Kendall automatically shut down. So when his brother's head hit the ice with a crack that seemed to shake the whole rink, he didn't cry. When he knelt beside Logan on the ice and called his name repeatedly only to get no response, Kendall didn't cry. When the paramedics came and loaded him onto a stretcher and took him away, Kendall didn't cry. When everyone else broke down in the waiting room, Kendall didn't cry. He hasn't cried yet and he's not about to, not if Logan is still with them. Tears aren't going to help Logan and that's all that matters. Kendall is going to help him and make him better. He's going to. He's not going to cry.
All of that changes in the blink of an eye though. Kendall has reached Logan's room and walks right on it without hesitating. It's nothing like he thought it would be and he almost falls over in shock. There are very little tubes and wires surrounding the hospital bed. An IV stand, a heart monitor, and some kind of computer. That's all. And that's not even the biggest shock. Logan isn't laying in bed, his face deathly pale and his eyes shut. He doesn't have tubes stuck down his throat. He's breathing on his own. He's sitting up. He's awake. Kendall almost cries right then and there but he catches himself just in time. He'll only scare Logan if he starts blubbering like an idiot.
So under the weight of crushing relief, he staggers over to the bed. "Logan," he sighs.
Then everything hits the fan and goes straight to hell. Logan looks straight at him, and with the blankest face imaginable, says in a perfectly clear and serious voice, "Who are you?" That's when Kendall starts to cry.
A/N. Short, I know, but I like prologues best that way. I'll try to work on the first real chapter soon, okay? I hope you all have a wonderful rest of the week!