Chapter Text
Looking back on it now, Pascal had never set off any red flags. He was just this clumsy man that had a hard time understanding boundaries and taking a hint that someone didn't want to be with him. He seemed so harmless, just a kind, puppylike man doing his best. Logan supposed if he had looked just a little bit harder, he would have seen all the small red flags Pascal consistently set off. The pushing, the constant taking Logan out to dinner, the strange conversations, the absurd amount of money Pascal casually threw around.
At least, it seemed that way. Because Pascal asked Logan to dinner every day, and if Logan said yes, Pascal was always the one that paid. Now that everything had been said and done, Logan had all the time in the world to ponder over every strange interaction, every look that lasted a second too long. All the red flags Pascal had set off. Pascal had left small clues the whole time. If Logan had tugged on the loose strings and slip-ups, maybe he would have found out before it was too late. But if he was going to do that, he should probably start at the beginning.
Logan was a simple man. He was tall and dark-skinned, darker than both of his biological parents. His facial features favored his father's eyebrows, mouth, and face shape, paired with his mother's long nose and big eyes. He always wore simple clothes, plain black polo shirts, tan khakis, or dark blue jeans. On the weekends he wore simple tee-shirts in darker blues and greens. Simple man, simple life. He had spent most of his life trying to blend into the background of other people's drama, although with his family's connections, that never really worked out for him.
It had been a normal day for Logan; wake up, take a shower, and get dressed at around 6:00 am sharp. Then he always ate a quick breakfast of cereal and coffee, pausing ever so often to tap his spoon against the table in a half-routine manner.
Tap, tap. Pause. Tap, long tap, tap, tap. Short pause. Long tap, long tap, long tap. Short pause. Tap, tap, tap, long tap. Short pause. Tap. Pause. Long tap, tap, long tap, long tap. Short pause. Long tap, long tap, long tap. Short pause. Tap, tap, long tap. Stop.
Once he finished eating and cleaned up, his phone would buzz with a call from his half-sister, Lacey. He would look at the phone, pick it up and feel its familiar weight in his hand, and ponder over whether or not he should answer. He always decided against it.
Logan collected his things and left for his work at the college, commuting by bus. Even after years of living with his father, he still couldn't bear to own a car. His mother's philosophies still lived at the forefront of his mind.
Even once he reached the college, nothing abnormal or even slightly different in his schedule had occurred. It wasn't until he managed to move through the crowd and get inside the building where he taught that Logan met the reason everything became strange.
The damning reason for his spiral had been a single misstep. Barely anyone else worked in the hall where Logan had classes, and the ones that did only had afternoon classes, so they would never be down there so early. As such, Logan had gotten used to a sense of isolation in the mornings. The quiet that came before the first of his students bothered to straggle into his classroom. And so, Logan didn't notice the man walking his way until they crashed straight into each other and toppled to the ground with a thud. Papers flew out of both men's hands, scattering around. It was an absolute mess, and it would have been unclear who's papers belonged to who, save for the foolish drawings littering the papers belonging to the stranger and his unusual bright colored paper.
"Oh, my goodness gravy! I'm so sorry!" The man in front of Logan hurriedly stood and ran around, stooping to collect the papers off of the ground. Logan attempted to find the glasses that had been knocked off of his face during the collision. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going! It's my first day teaching here, and I was trying to find my room, but this map is just so dang confusing!"
Logan found his glasses and put them on, finally getting a clear view of the man in front of him. He was a large, slightly short man. His hair was a bright burst of reddish-orange curls that looked like it was on fire from the sunlight glaring through the hall windows. Freckles spattered over his face, and smiling blue eyes looked at Logan fondly, almost like they were seeing a familiar friend.
"It is quite alright. I am not normally distracted; it is as much my fault as yours." Logan awkwardly smiles so he wouldn't look too out of place in the school hallway.
Glancing down, he started to go through all the papers he had been handed, double-checking they were all his before he remembered he was still sitting on the cold tile floor. Embarrassedly pulling himself off the ground, he holds his hand out loosely.
"Oh, this is a horrible way to start here. Already bumping heads everywhere I go." The man shakes Logan's hand enthusiastically, his short fingers intertwining with Logan's long, slender ones before a shocked look takes over his features as he realized something. "Oh no! I've already forgotten to introduce myself, haven't I! I'm Pascal Burr! Pascal, like the chameleon in Tangled! I'm teaching psychology in...Um..." Pascal glanced down at the top of his stack of papers, his round-framed glasses sliding slightly down his nose. "Room 415!"
"Logan. Blythe. Astronomy. Do you need assistance finding your room?" Logan's day had already been interrupted; he didn't need to make someone late to theirs.
"Yes, 415. Thank you so much. I'm so sorry for crashing into you. You're not hurt, right?" Pascal rambles. As he talked, Logan noticed he had a habit of fidgeting with his hands.
"No, I'm quite alright, as I said. Come on; you weren't too far off. You're right next to my room. Which is strange since the occupied rooms in this hall are relatively spread out."
"I guess we're meant to be friends, huh?"
One crash, and now Logan's entire life was a train wreck. One crash had once again altered the entire course of Logan's life.
"Good morning Logan!" Pascal raced up to Logan, a bounce in his step. He wore the cardigan he normally tied around his neck, the March wind making his curls ruffle around. A few weeks had passed since Pascal had first started work at the school, and he seemingly found endless enjoyment in sitting with Logan during their lunch breaks and talking his ear off about any random thing that popped into his head.
"Good morning Pascal." Logan nodded stiffly, a slight headache nestling behind his eye as he held the door open for the shorter man. He had been getting sick recently, and although he very rationally worried it might be his cancer returning, his trip to the doctor had proven nothing was wrong. He was just sick. And being sick left him relatively unenthusiastic about the prospect of Pascal joining him in his classroom for lunch.
"Do you wanna go out for lunch sometime, Logan? There's this really nifty restaurant I saw! It's a lovely place. It's got candles and-"
"Ah, apologies, Pascal. I fear I may have misled you. I see you purely as a friend. I am not looking for a romantic partner at the moment." Even Logan could feel the tension in the lull of the conversation.
You couldn't blame him; he had only known Pascal for a couple of weeks, not nearly enough to form a bond strong enough for a romantic relationship. Logan wasn't even considering Pascal a good friend, merely a conversation partner that sometimes didn't know when to stop talking and appreciate silence.
"Oh." The dark tone in Pascal's voice comes and disappears in a second before his peppy smile is back. "Well, that's alright! We're friends! We should still go for lunch though; maybe we could talk about the upcoming projects we could do for our classes! And you promised you'd tell me about the story behind the Orion constellation!"
"Of course, Pascal."
Then, of course, it didn't hurt to mention that Pascal kept on trying for that date. Maybe it was because Logan found it hard sometimes to remember he could say no to people and make his own decisions. But, when it became clear Pascal wasn't getting the date he wanted, he backed off a little. Now that Logan could look at everything that happened with a less clouded view, he realized that Pascal had only backed off just enough to be comfortable. Comfortable enough to go on a trip.
"Hi, Lolo!" Logan despised that nickname even more now. He had already hated it, his little sister had used it when she was younger, but now the word grated on his ears. "I was wondering if you wanted to go on a trip! It's nearly summer again, and I've got this great place that my brother is lending me for the summer. So we could stay there!"
Foolishly, Logan had agreed. "That sounds amicable, Pascal. I suppose a trip wouldn't be a horrible idea. I was planning to get away from town for a bit anyway; this could be a nice way to do it."
"That's great, Lolo! We should leave as soon as we can before it gets too hot. Maybe in May?"
The last day is the one Logan thought of the most now. How he hadn't realized something was wrong was insane. Pascal's behavior had shifted so drastically from his normal self. Yes, he was still bouncy and excitable, but he also seemed to be hiding something.
He had been. Logan realized that now.
"Are you ready to go, Lo?" Pascal asked once they had finished loading up his car with their suitcases. Pascal had agreed to meet Logan in the parking lot of the college. Logan was far from ready to let Pascal know his address quite yet.
"Yes, I believe that's it." Logan nodded, his eyes flitting over all the luggage one last time.
"Great! I should have mentioned this before; I'm so sorry. Could you sit in the back? I get worried whenever someone sits in the front."
"Of course, Pascal."
He hadn't even realized how different he was when asking that. He was never different when he asked him things. But that one remark, after his request that Logan sat in the back, was drenched with something akin to nervousness. Almost like a child, afraid to be caught in a lie. He hadn't realized any of this until a window between the front and back of the pastel blue van began to roll up.
Logan could never hold his breath for very long.
When he was younger, before the cancer, he had often swum to the bottom of the pond behind his mama's trailer to test how long he could hold his breath. But then, of course, he had gotten diagnosed and couldn't hold his breath for barely twenty seconds without wheezing. All it took was a minute, wheezing and gasping, his eyes red and watering. He had begged Pascal at the start, pleading what he had done wrong, even though he somewhat knew deep down this was about the constant proposals to go out that he denied. In the last few seconds, he couldn't even manage to force words out of his tightening throat.
He was sure he was going to die, and then he was out like a light bulb.
Pascal had part of what he wanted. All he needed was the rest of his family.