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English
Series:
Part 224 of Spooky 2 , Part 33 of Saladfingers' Must-Watch Collection
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Published:
2026-06-28
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709
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1/1
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Drowning (2021)

Summary:

January 18, 2021, Berrisford Mansion, Seattle, Washington

Being at the Berrisford Mansion brings back painful memories, and it's obvious that Alec is very not okay. Logan is very not used to being the comforter, but he tries.

Work Text:

The heavy iron gates of the Berrisford Mansion groan against the damp Seattle chill, but the sound that truly grates on Logan’s nerves is the sudden, sharp hitch in Alec’s breathing. Max is off grid again, deeply entangled with Asha’s militant S1W group, leaving Logan to handle a supposedly routine Jam Pony run. He’s in his wheelchair, navigating the slick gravel driveway, while Alec flanks him on his bike. Or rather, Alec was flanking him. Now, the younger man has come to a dead halt, his boots scraping against the gravel as he stares up at the looming stone facade.

 

Being at the Berrisford Mansion brings back painful memories of a lover and his betrayal as well as trouble. Alec’s usual cocky, self-assured posture evaporates, replaced by a rigid, trembling stillness that Logan has never seen on him before. To Alec, the grand architecture isn't just Seattle wealth; it’s a ghost story. This estate belongs to a man who was once an assassination assignment Alec was given back at Manticore—a mission tangled up with a past lover, a devastating betrayal, and a web of violence that almost claimed his own life. The towering columns and dark, arched windows don't just feel imposing; they look like a trap closing back in on him.

 

Logan watches him closely, the journalist in him cataloging the micro-expressions—the white-knuckle grip on the handlebars, the way Alec's eyes dart frantically toward the high perimeter walls. As they've only begun developing their friendship/relationship, Logan wants to help him face his demons and resolve the sins of his past. Their bond is still a fragile, undefined thing, built on stolen glances, quiet nights at Logan's apartment, and a mutual understanding of what it means to be broken by the world. Logan doesn't want Alec to retreat behind his usual walls of sarcasm. He wants to be the anchor Alec clearly needs right now, even if digging into Manticore's lingering trauma feels like stepping into a minefield.

 

"Hey," Logan says softly, his voice cutting through the mist. "Alec. Talk to me."

 

Alec flinches, his gaze snapping down to Logan as if he’d forgotten he wasn't alone. It's obvious that Alec is very not okay, despite his words (that slurring edge), sounding completely unconvincing as he tries to force a casual shrug.

 

"It's nothing, eyes," Alec mutters, his words slightly run together, a rare slip in his usually sharp cadence. "Just... bad deja vu. Let's just drop the package and bounce. No biggie." He tries to offer a signature smirk, but it pulls tightly across his face, looking more like a grimace. The tremor in his hands gives him away completely.

 

Logan looks at him, feeling a sudden, heavy wave of inadequacy. Logan is very not used to being the comforter. Usually, he’s the guy with the plan, the cyberjournalist delivering hard truths from behind a screen, or the friend offering a cynical reality check. When it comes to emotional heavy lifting, he knows how to offer sex and crack dark jokes to make his friends laugh. That is his comfort zone—surface-level deflections, physical intimacy without the messy emotional vulnerability, or a biting quip to break the tension.

 

Faced with Alec's raw, unspoken terror, Logan defaults to what he knows.

 

He shifts his chair closer, letting his hand rest on Alec’s trembling forearm. "Look, if this place is giving you the creeps, we can always find a more private way to burn off the adrenaline," Logan says, his voice dropping an octave, throwing out the familiar lifeline of casual flirtation. He offers a small, wry smile. "Or, you know, if we get caught trespassing, I can always tell the cops you're my highly aggressive, very expensive bodyguard. I'm sure your ego could handle the press."

 

He tries that with Alec, hoping the familiar rhythm of their banter will pull the younger man back from the edge. For a second, Alec just stares at him, the rain starting to bead on his leather jacket. Then, a tiny, genuine fracture appears in Alec's stoic facade, and he lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. It isn't a fix, but as Alec's grip on the handlebars loosens just a fraction, Logan knows it's a start.