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It was about three in the afternoon. Roman was asleep, so Virgil had to be quiet. Don't let the drawers opening and closing make any noise. Don't step too hard or he'll hear you and wake up. Don't make any noises of pain. It was difficult, as on top of all the bruises he had, there was one especially painful injury: a large gash in his side. Roman had thrown a knife at Virgil while they were arguing earlier this morning. He hadn't meant for it to hit him, just for it to be a warning. At least, that's what Virgil thought. What were they even arguing about- It didn't matter. Roman was now asleep after pulling an all-nighter to study. If Virgil was going to run away, this was his best chance.
His backpack was on his bed, filled with anything he could fit. A spare change of clothes, a blanket. The space hoodie Logan had given him when he first went to their house, which he had always kept hidden because having each other's hoodies is a boyfriend thing and Roman did not like Virgil and Logan being boyfriends. Logan's diary, which he'd found after being forced to live with Roman and stay in Logan's old room. A bracelet he'd been able to save up for by collecting change from the street, a silver star on a black ribbon. Still in its packaging, he'd be dead if Roman caught him wearing it.
Once everything was packed, his backpack was as full as he could make it, Virgil stared at the wall, thinking. He... he was really doing this. After being trapped with Roman for literal months, his own education being cut short when Roman dragged him away for college, being forced to meet up with Logan in secret. He was actually about to run away. To where, he wasn't sure, but he sure was doing it. So after taking another breath, he snuck out into the apartment hall, closed the door silently behind himself, and made his way down the stairs, out the front door. And once his feet were firmly on the sidewalk, he ran.
Wind raced past his ears, heart hammering inside his ribcage, even his throat seemed to be pounding in time with it. His legs ached, his sides were already getting cramped. His left side was wet, the knife wound must have reopened. People were looking, he could feel every stranger's eyes tracking him. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting away, so he kept running. Across streets, not stopping for other cars, cutting corners.
Virgil wasn't entirely sure where he was running at first, all he knew was that he had to get away from Roman. Even as his breath caught in this throat, as his lungs burned, as his head pounded and vision swam and fingers were getting sticky from keeping pressure on the gash in his side, he kept running. He almost didn't realize he was getting close to the freshman dorms until he was standing outside Logan's building, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. Huh. I wonder how hard it is to get blood out of the carpets here. I think they've seen worse.
He was able to flag down another student, breathlessly asking to be let in. And thank fuck they took pity on him, greasy and sweaty hair clinging to his face that featured worse eyebags than he could ever hope to achieve with makeup. He thanked them once he was inside, trudging breathlessly up the two flights of stairs, across the carpeted floors. He frequently stopped to lean against walls, bonus points if they had metal for him to rest his forehead on. By the time he got to the door he was looking for, Virgil was struggling to stay awake. Or catch his breath, or stay on his feet. Having one hand basically glued to his side to keep pressure on a stab wound wasn't very good for keeping balance. But he raised his other hand to knock, holding his breath to listen for-
"Ah- one moment, please." Logan. Virgil almost passed out from relief then and there, but he was able to hold on until the door opened, and there was Logan. Still wearing the same black polo and blue tie as always. "Apologies, how can I- oh shit, Starlight, what happened?!"
Virgil wobbled a bit on his feet, and Logan immediately reached out to stabilize him, fuck how are they so warm- he smiled, and was able to mumble "Hey nerd... what's up?" before he toppled forward and everything went black.
~ ~ ~
When Virgil woke up, the first thing he noticed was that everything hurt. His head hurt, his ears were ringing slightly. The pain in his side was slightly more bearable, though he didn't dare change that by moving around. What had happened again...? Oh. Right. He ran away. Probably shouldn't have done that with all his injuries... it's honestly a miracle he didn't bleed out on the way here. Which actually brought up another question: where was here?
Virgil could tell he was on something soft. A pillow tucked under his head and warm, fluffy blankets surrounding him on all sides. His eyes still felt too heavy to open, so looking around was out of the question, but staying here didn't seem too bad. At first, Virgil thought this may be the afterlife.
But then he heard the yelling. Arguing. The voices overlapped sometimes, it was hard to tell what they were saying, the ringing in his ears didn't help. It was like the conversation phased in and out, ebbing and flowing like tides, until the words fully washed over him.
"It's not my fault he ran here, that was his decision, he knew what he was getting into-"
"He re-opened the wounds that you gave him, he wouldn't have run away if you-"
"Besides, you don't even know-"
"Just stop trying to defend yourself!!"
Virgil froze, breath catching in his throat. That was Logan...
"Well, pardon me for trying to help him!"
...and that was Roman. Whatever serenity Virgil had found upon awakening was gone, like he’d been doused in cold water. He couldn't help the small whimper that escaped, he just had to hope no one had-
“Stormcloud! Oh good, you're awake, I was getting worried.” Shit.
Virgil slowly managed to open his eyes, and sure enough, Roman and Logan were on the other end of the room, and they were both looking at him. He shrunk back at Roman’s not at all subtle glare, but Logan… Logan’s normally impassive eyes were full of care and compassion, worry and longing. It was clear that Roman just wanted to bring Virgil back with him; but Virgil knew that Logan cared, and that was all he needed to know. But he didn’t get to focus on that yet, because Roman wasn’t done talking.
“What were you thinking, running off like that? You scared me!” His voice was full of fake concern, and it made Virgil's stomach churn, but Roman continued before he could get a word out. “I'm glad Logan got you patched up, so I don't need to worry about that. Come on, we're going home.”
Virgil shrunk back into the blankets—into the bed, he realized, shoved against one wall and across from another—and shook his head. He couldn’t go back, he’d worked so hard to get out, he couldn’t give all that up now. Roman scoffed.
“No? Sorry Stormcloud, but no isn’t an option-”
“Actually,” Logan cut in, tone razor-sharp and arms crossed, shifting to stand between him and Virgil, “it is. And no one here is amused by you denying him that choice. Now, I suggest you leave.”
“Excuse me?” Roman’s tone darkened, and Virgil hid himself further under the blankets, but Logan didn’t even flinch.
“You heard me. Get out of my room, stay away from my Starlight. And if you even think of coming near him ever again-!”
“Okay, okay! Sheesh, tough crowd.” Roman threw his hands up and spun on his heel, storming out the door. He glared over his shoulder once he was in the hall, eyes trained on Virgil, though Logan was able to cut off whatever he might say by closing and locking the door.
Virgil was… still a bit in shock, watching Logan sigh against the closed door, take a moment to gather themself before walking back to the bed. He watched quietly as Logan reached down to brush back hair that hadn’t been washed in many days, dark brown roots visible after not being dyed for months, leaning into the gentle touch almost on instinct. “Starlight? He’s gone now… are you alright?”
“...take a wild fucking guess.”
Logan chuckled softly and sat next to him, the bed creaking slightly with the added weight, a warm hand on his shoulder. “I understand, dear. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you on my own…”
“Hey, no. Don’t be. Even seeing you for a moment when you walked by, sneaking out while Princey was in class… it meant so much.” He tried to move closer, lay his head in Logan’s lap, but hissed in pain when he pulled on his side, his hand quickly moving to put pressure on the knife wound.
“Oh- oh, careful, Starlight, try not to open your stitches-” Logan’s hands were already fluttering to check on the bandage around his stomach, lift it up and see if anything had opened.
Virgil chuckled fondly. “It’s okay, Lo. You did good.” And he wasn’t just talking about the stitches. “I just… really want cuddles.”
Logan relaxed and smiled softly down at him, carefully lifting Virgil up before letting him lay on their chest, arms wrapped gently around him. He could hear Logan’s heartbeat under his cheek, feel himself rising and falling with Logan’s breath. Warm, solid, grounding. He sniffed, trying to be quiet, but Logan heard him anyway. “You can cry, love,” he murmured, a warm hand tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “You haven’t been able to cry properly in a while, haven’t you?”
And he knew if he opened his mouth, he’d sound pathetic, so Virgil just shook his head. “That’s alright, you can now. I’ll be here for as long as you need me, Starlight. I promise.”
And with that last word, something inside Virgil broke. In barely a blink, he had his face buried in the crook of Logan’s neck, arms wrapped tightly around him and clinging to his shirt, breaking down in sobs. Logan just gently held him, kissed his forehead. Ran gentle fingers though his hair, murmured reassurances. It all just made him cry more, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because he was finally home now, he was back with Logan, Roman would never touch him again.
He was safe.