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Logan waters some of the flowers along the window, delicately touching one of the petals before moving along. They're coming along nicely, and they're the first few he's ever grown by himself without supervision.
He's helping at the flower shop again. He does it more often, now. He knows that new hobbies (and more time indulging in those hobbies) can help cope, and lord knows everyone in their group needs something like that. Tending to the plants in his grandparent's shop allows him to not think at all or think as freely as he likes. He just has to be careful about his expressions in front of his grandparents, but it's getting to a point where they don't even need to supervise him anymore.
He glances at the clock above the door to the greenhouse. It's 6:45; he should start closing up right about now and head home. His grandparents will stay longer, probably, to take care of orders and reservations made online, but they always insist he go home. He's grateful for the debrief, though. Those 5 hours are both miserable and crucial to him surviving the night.
He slips off his gloves (which are covered in dirt) and moves the various objects back where he found them; bags of soil, spray bottles, and watering cans, and he turns around afterwards, only to pause.
Ben stands next to him, squinting at some of the flowers - the ones that Logan grew. He manages to not make a sound, just startles and freezes up.
Ben is a big guy. That doesn't make Logan scared of him or anything, just surprised at how he can manage to be so quiet as he slinks around the place. Logan hadn't even realized he was there, and he's quite paranoid, as much as he hates to admit it.
"Ben? What are you doing here?" Logan looks around for Aiden as he unties his apron. Ben makes a so-so gesture with his hands then points to himself, and Logan nods. "Mm, Aiden isn't here?"
Ben nods, and Logan hums in response. Ben follows behind him as he hangs up his apron. "I'm really sorry, but we close at 7, so you can't stay in here."
Ben nods and trails after him like a lost puppy, like he usually does with Aiden. It's weird to be on the other side, with a companion who doesn't speak with words but instead with actions. Aiden talks enough for two people, but Logan talks for barely half of one - not that he has trouble understanding Ben. He's learned his tells, after all this time, when he's nervous and when he's frustrated and when he's happy because he got complimented or just feels nice because the group expresses their appreciation.
Logan glances at Ben as he locks up the front door and realizes that Ben is watching him as he does so. Not his hands or anything, but his face. It makes Logan nervous, and it takes longer than it should to lock the doors. His hands are sweaty, and he doesn't know if he should go home or invite Ben somewhere or invite him home, and then he realizes that he should probably tell Ben that.
"Sorry, but I- Uhm, I'm not sure if... why you came here..." Logan starts, absolutely not looking at Ben's face. "Not that you aren't welcome! Just, uhm, did you want to go somewhere? Like, to eat, or should I invite you over to my house?" This time, he knows him not knowing what to do isn't his fault, and it's also not Ben's. Doesn't make him feel any less awkward, any less embarrassed.
Ben holds up to fingers.
"To my house?" Logan asks, and Ben nods. Logan swallows. "Oh, okay, yeah." He gestures with his head and messes with his fingers as they walk.
Ben walks beside him, not behind or in front, and Ben pulls out his phone as they walk. It isn't a long walk, only a few minutes, and the entire time Logan is thinking about how awful it was to make this same walk - run - while being chased by the phantoms. The sun is setting, and Logan is getting restless. He can't stand to be out in the dark anymore. His childhood fear of it is coming back, and his grandma is worrying, but this is something he can't pretend about. He doesn't care how much Tyler complains that the phantoms are scarier, that he's dealt with worse.
He vaguely rubs at his side, which doesn't hurt. It's more of a phantom sting. He can feel the wound there, the reminder and the scars, even if it doesn't exist in this reality and is completely healed in the other.
Ben pokes him and he pauses. They stop walking, and Ben is looking at where his hand is rubbing his ribs with a questioning look.
"Oh, it's nothing. Doesn't hurt," Logan assures. "Just... you know." He shrugs and keeps walking. It takes Ben a second to catch up because he just stands there, but Logan's house is right there so he starts going up the steps.
It isn't big. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the living room and kitchen are connected. It's not like they don't have a lot of money, but his grandparents have always liked simple things like this. Small house, flower shop, date nights every Saturday, breakfast in bed on Sunday, reading during sunset every weekend with Logan. It's nice, the routine, and he isn't embarrassed as he locks the door after Ben walks in.
Ben looks at all of the pictures put up as they walk down the hall. Most are of Logan, but a lot include his grandparents in various stages. Their wedding, a first date photo when they were very young, and plenty of them now.
Logan leads Ben to his room, rubbing his shirt, and he closes the door behind him - just in case. The window is locked. It always is, now. The first night he woke up here, one of them almost got in. It almost got him. He used to sleep with it open.
He turns to Ben, who is typing something on his phone. Logan waits patiently, just like always, until Ben hands it to him.
'Are you sure it doesn't hurt?'
"It's just in my head," Logan explains, shrugging. He gives his phone back and grabs the hem of his shirt, holding it up. "Just because I know it happened, you know? You did a good job of patching it up, though."
Ben hands him the phone. 'I think the scar makes you look cool.'
Logan's face heats up, but he acts like it doesn't. "Oh. Thank you."
He walks over to his bed and sits down, closing his blinds. He doesn't like to look at them, doesn't like that they can look at him - even if they aren't there, even if this isn't where he's going to wake up, he doesn't want the ghost of them to haunt it. It's dim in the room with only a lamp on, but he doesn't want it to be too bright either. Logan runs his fingers down a few petals of the flower next to him - a daisy, his favorite.
"Is it easier to communicate like you do?" Logan wonders. "Not that - I mean, like, emotionally. I know it's hard to not be able to talk, you can't communicate as fast as you want to, but is it easier than saying it out loud?"
Ben sits next to him on the bed. 'A little bit. Bolder.'
Logan hums. "I don't think I'm good at that. Talking to people, I mean." Every time he thinks about bringing up the way the monsters at night affect him, the more he tries to hide.
Ben points at himself, and Logan nods and takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes.
'I think you guys are the only ones who can tell what I'm saying.'
Logan's fingers hover over Ben's phone. "I'm sorry it happened to you, you know." Logan mumbles. "Everything, really. Sorry you're in this mess with us. None of us should be."
Ben nods, and when Logan scoots back to put his back to the wall Ben does the same.
It's silent for a while as they sit there, and Logan knows that they're both thinking about tonight. They're still making preparations, and Logan is itching to get his hands on some sort of gun. He doesn't like the violence of it, of course, but it makes him feel safer. Just knowing that he has something he can use. His finger twitches, and his brow furrows. He doesn't know when he turned into the kind of person who would want to carry one on him at all times. He thought he would never even hold one, and look at him now. Scars running down his ribs, on the verge of death every night, and he's a teenager.
'I think you're the most delicate person I know,' Ben types and hands over.
Logan stares at it for a while, reveling in the perfect timing. "Why?" He finds himself asking without meaning to.
'You handle everything with care. You caress flowers, and even when you're holding a gun, you're somehow so gentle with it. It's hard to explain.'
And isn't that something. A funny parallel, really, that he goes from caressing flowers in the day to aiming with a gun at night. Logan gets what he's trying to say, and gets that it's hard to explain, because it's hard to think about in the right way, too. That something so violent can still be treated so gently - that it HAS to be treated as such - and he gets hit with a wave of nausea. They're going to try and get the jeep tonight. He's going to be using a sniper while everyone else is risking their lives. He doesn't know what he's going to do if something happens to any of them.
Logan sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head against Ben's shoulder. "I'm glad you think so," Logan murmurs, and Ben pats his arm in reassurance. "I'm probably going to have to shoot one tonight." Eighteen bullets. What if he runs out?
He doesn't open his eyes, and Ben doesn't move to type anything else. Instead, he grabs Logan's hand and runs his thumb along the back of it.
It shouldn't help as much as it does.
At midnight, they appear in the bus. Logan is curled up on one of the old seats, and he shoots up immediately when he feels the shift. Because he feels it, the way his clothes are tighter and he's kind of damp from sweat and the off feeling that this reality provides.
He glances around and finds Ben's eyes. They stare at each other for a moment, before Ashlyn immediately gets up to leave the bus and prepare.
People file slowly after - Aiden confidently, Tyler annoyed, and Taylor following her brother unsurely, until it's just Logan and Ben in the car. Logan has the gun in his hands, and he's shaking.
Ben doesn't use his phone in here very often. They need to conserve battery life, and Ben didn't plug his phone in at Logan's house beforehand, so it probably isn't all that charged. Ben stands up and walks to Logan's seat in the middle of the bus, pausing.
"I'll be fine," Logan assures. "I just need a minute."
Ben nods, glances out of the window, and then back at Logan. He leans down and places his hand - so warm and unexpectedly soft - on the side of Logan's head. He brushes some of his hair away and kisses his forehead. Lingers.
When he straightens out he smiles and keeps walking a little faster than usual, jumping out and meeting Aiden at the bottom so they can make their final preparations.
When Logan looks down, he isn't shaking anymore.