Work Text:
Logan struggled to draw a full breath as he stood on the very tippy tops of his tippy toes, trying to reach the handle that would free him from the horrible attic.
“Momma.” He whispered, fingers slick with sweat from the heat. “Momma please.” It was too hot. Far too hot. Momma couldn’t be mad if he came out now right? “Momma.”
But no matter how high he reached he couldn’t do more than touch the bottom of the round knob. He whimpered, letting his feet fall flat, turning in the too hot space. Sweat dribbled down his brow as he staggered away from the doorway. Maybe there was something to climb on? Something to help him?
He squinted his eyes, catching something glimmering in the corner. “OH!” He ran straight to the sewing machine that glimmered dark brown like the melted chocolate on TV. If he could drag it over to the door--maybe maybe--he could climb it and reach the handle!
Logan grabbed the metal bars of the table.
LOGAN!!”
Logan yelped as the bars burned his fingers and turned to stare up and up and up at his Momma.
“WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT BEING IN MY SEWING ROOM!”
Her eyes shot fire bolts directly at him, with a scream he ducked, the heat from the flames scorching his back.
Too hot! Too Hot! Momma was going to burn him in the attic! He tried crawling to her, but the floor melted around him, sucking at his legs. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorr--”
“Lo?”
A deeper voice, cold like the tap water washed through his head as cool fingers touched the back of his neck.
Logan gasped, shooting upright in bed, looking wildly around. “Sorry Mo--” He cut off as a lamp clicked on revealing his Daddy right there in bed next to him.
“Daddy.”
He gasped, practically flinging himself into Virgil’s chest, clinging tightly to him. “I too hot. Too hot!” His eyes shimmered as he fought not to cry. “Too hot.” He hated being in the attic.
HATED IT
.
Cool fingers ran through his damp hair as his Daddy pulled him closer, picking him up easily into his arms as he slid from the mattress that had been pulled into the living room where the big windows were. “Let’s get you cooler then, okay Lo?” He whispered like he’d done every time Logan had woken up from the attic dreams. “You don’t have to be too hot. We can be as cold as you want.”
Logan drew in a shaky breath. “I--Ice cream---outside?” He whispered.
Virgil huffed, voice tinged with a laugh. “Sure Lo. One cream pop only though, okay?” He said moving them to the kitchen and pulling open the freezer.