Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I shudder

Hands clutching at my arms

As I try to keep the tears from pooling in my eyes

*

     Logan blinked awake to the sound of his alarm, groaning slightly as he rolled over to turn it off.

     His head wouldn’t turn more than a few degrees, catching oddly on his pillow. 

     He sat up with no difficulty, his head tilting forward as he reached for his glasses. His head felt heavier than usual, and it took more effort to keep it from tilting to the side while he fumbled.

     Logan frowned.

     Turned to look at the odd shape in the corner of his vision.

     The dark gray blur stayed in the same place, following as he turned his head.

     Logan shoved his glasses on his face, hands fumbling around the curves on either side of his head. Stumbled out of bed, ignoring the panic that thrummed in his chest and the breaths that came faster than they should have.

     He had the sinking suspicion, despite any sort of logical thought, even before he opened the bathroom door, before he flicked the light on, before he placed himself in front of the mirror and stared back at his reflection.

     Logan knew the person staring back was him. He made a point to not spend any more time in front of a mirror than he had to, but he could recognize his own reflection.

     Him or not, though, the person hardly looked human anymore. Plenty of things were the same. Short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, medium height, build on the heavier side of average. 

     That being said, the horns were definitely new. Large and looping, stemming from just below his hairline and curving around his ears and away from his head. If Logan had to guess, he’d say that they resembled a Bighorn Ram’s, though the usual light beige of sheep horns had become a cool gray erring on the darker side.

     The small black scales dotted across his forehead and cheekbones were new, too. Logan titled his head, following a trail of them down the side of his neck and across his shoulders. They were almost like freckles, if larger and darker and cool to the touch. 

     Logan was probably still asleep, the odd visage in the mirror some odd sort of dream. Humans couldn’t grow horns overnight, couldn’t sprout scales, couldn’t… couldn’t suddenly gain tails in their twenties. 

     Oh, stars, Logan had a tail.

     He ran his hands over his face, wincing as his fingers skated over scale instead of skin. 

     It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to wake. 

     The moments passed, agonizingly slow.

     When he opened his eyes again, Logan was still standing in his bathroom, that twisted mockery of a reflection still staring back at him.

     He took a shaky breath. His head felt like it was filled with sludge, his thoughts too slow, thinking a task that took far too much effort.

     Logan pinched himself.

     Oh, stars, he wasn’t asleep, was he? This was real, he was awake. 

     His breathing got shallower, got faster. What was he going to do? He couldn’t go to work, couldn’t leave his apartment, couldn’t go out into public, not when he looked like… like a monster .

     Logan took a shaky breath, trying to get himself under control. Running a hand through his hair, arm bumping against his new horns—his horns, his horns, he had horns—and forcing himself to breath slower, deeper.

     This was fine. He was going to be fine. 

     One thing at a time, now.

     His alarm had gone off earlier, that meant he had to work soon.

     Logan couldn’t go to work, not looking like this.

     Okay then. He hardly ever took time off, he had plenty of sick days. He could call in sick for the next two days, then it was the weekend and he wouldn’t have to worry about that until Monday. 

     Logan shuffled out of the bathroom, destined for where he left his phone on the nightstand. He wouldn’t object to the idea of going back to bed after he called in. Logically, he knew oversleeping was bad for him, more so than under sleeping in some cases, but Patton would definitely encourage the extra sleep. 

     And if he just didn’t want to be conscious to deal with the problems he had woken up to… well, could you really blame him?

     Just avoiding problems until they went away was, unfortunately, one of Logan’s strong suits.

     Logan woke up disoriented, feeling as though his mouth had been stuffed with cotton. 

     His phone buzzed, drawing his attention.

     It was a text from Patton.

     It was several texts from Patton, actually. Logan’s friend had texted him multiple times while he had been asleep.

Hey, Logan, do you want to meet up for lunch? (9:27)

Lemme know whenever you’re not busy. (9:28)

You still haven’t answered, but is it alright if Roman comes along? His lunch break is gonna be at the same time as ours today. (9:55)

Logan? (10:31)

Isn’t your break in a few minutes? (11:19)

They said you called in sick to work today, are you feeling alright? (11:52)

I’m coming over to check on you (12:00)

     Logan cursed to himself, quickly sending Patton a text that yes, he was fine. No, he didn’t need to come over. He was probably contagious and didn’t want Patton getting sick.

     The last thing he wanted was for Patton to see him like this. He didn’t want to frighten his friend, didn’t want to drive him away. Maybe it was selfish, but Logan didn’t want Patton to see him and think he was a monster. Didn’t want to hear any comments he might have, any exclamations of disgust or horror.

     Logan wouldn’t be able to handle that.

     His phone chimed again, another text from Patton.

Well I’m still coming over. You’re sick, you need someone to take care of you until you feel better! I’ll pick up some soup on the way there (12:02)

     Well. Shit.
     What was he going to do?

Chapter Text

I feel odd

Disconnected

Unreal, otherworldly, inhuman

*

     Logan paced back and forth, scaled tail lashing behind him. What was he going to do? He might’ve been able to hide the scales by covering his skin with a blanket or clothing, might be able to tuck the thin tail into his pants leg, but there was nothing he could do to hide his horns. They were too large, anything he put over them would be obvious and there was no conceivable way to keep Patton from seeing his head the entire time he was here.

     There was a knock on the door.

     “Hey, Lo, I’m here! Can you let me in?”

     Logan froze in place, eyes shooting to the door to his apartment. He couldn’t let Patton in, but… well, he couldn’t just ignore him. 

     “Give me a minute,” he called, running back to his room and grabbing a blanket off of his bed. Maybe if he pulled his hair down into his face it would hide the scales up against his hairline. He wished he had a mask of some sort, to cover the ones dusting his cheekbones and along his jaw. Maybe he could pull the blanket over them? Would that be suspicious?

     “Are you alright? Oh, I might still have that spare key you gave me, hang on.” Logan could hear the faint jangling of keys through the door. 

     “No, Patton, I… uh… please don’t, I wouldn’t want you to catch anything!” Logan’s hands nervously fluttered in the air around him as he turned this way and that, trying to find some way to… to keep Patton out, keep him from seeing how horrid Logan had become—

     The jangle of keys paused, the lock on the door making an audible click as it disengaged. Logan paused, staring in horror as the door swung open.

     Patton stepped inside, bumping the door closed with a hip. He shoved his keys back into his pocket before glancing up at Logan and freezing.

     The room was silent for a heartbeat, the two staring at each other, eyes wide.

     Patton set his bag down, frowning and taking a few steps towards Logan. “What are you doing up? You look a little shaky, Lo.” 

     His friend looked him up and down. “And a little… what's the word you use, deshoveled?”

     “Disheveled,” Logan corrected, almost automatically. He glanced down at his rumpled clothing, smoothing out his shirt with one hand. “You may be right.”

     Patton grabbed his arm, softly pulling him over to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down. I’m gonna heat up your soup, call me if you need anything, okay?”

     He was gone before Logan could open his mouth. 

     Logan leaned against the arm of the couch, feeling a little dazed. It was always disorienting to see his normally high energy friend so… reserved , he guessed. 

     He took a deep breath, letting his eyes slide closed. At least Patton hadn’t commented on his new appearance. Not much, at least. There was no way he hadn’t noticed, maybe he was just waiting to bring it up. He did think Logan was sick, after all. 

     Another deep breath. 

     Patton hadn’t immediately freaked out upon seeing him, so maybe it would be fine. They’d been friends for six years now, and Patton was a very understanding person. Everything would be fine. 

     He glanced up when Patton came back, a bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Logan’s stomach twisted at the thought of food, but he took the bowl when Patton offered it. He hadn’t eaten yet today, and he was sure Patton had guessed that. Logan never was very good at taking care of himself.

     Patton pressed a hand to Logan’s forehead, tutting to himself. “You seem kind of out of it, but you don’t feel warm at all. Is it a headache?”

     Logan leaned into the touch a little, letting his eyes flutter shut and humming an agreement. It was believable enough. 

     “I’ll go get you a nice, cold rag and a blanket, okay? Drink some water, it might help.”

*

     “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

     Patton paused carding his hands through Logan’s hair to pause the mute the movie he’d already had on low volume. “What was that?”

     “I’m sorry for not telling you,” Logan repeated. “That I wasn’t going to make it to lunch earlier. And for wasting your afternoon.”

     “It’s alright, Lo. You were probably a little preoccupied with being sick.”

    Logan sat up from his place pressed up against Patton’s side, guilt twisting in his stomach. He didn’t want to lie to his best friend. “I didn’t go in because I was sick, I just didn’t want to leave my apartment looking… looking like this .” 

     Patton frowned, visibly confused. “You’re a little messy, and you look like you haven’t been sleeping again, but you look fine, Logan. Did something happen?”

     Logan froze, tail curling closer to him. He had turned into an abomination overnight, he could hardly be considered fine , let alone human.

     “How much sleep have you been getting lately?”

     He blinked. “I can hardly see how that’s relevant, I—“

     “Please, Logan.”

     Patton was giving him that one worried look he always used, with big, sad eyes that Logan wasn’t keen on being the cause of.

     “I have probably been averaging six hours of sleep a night, however—“

     “Logan!”

     “— however I did sleep in this morning. I’ll be fine, that’s besides the point.”

     Patton sighed, straightening slightly. “Sleep deprivation can lead to depression , diabetes, heart issues—“ he cut himself off, not continuing the list Logan had helped him memorize back in college. Logan smiled at the memory for a moment.

     “Lo, I just want you to take better care of yourself, okay? You’re my best friend, for crying out loud, and I love ya, but you keep doin’ this kinda stuff to yourself and I really think it’s startin’ to take a toll on your mental health, ya know? You look perfectly fine. I swear. Please promise me you’ll take better care of yourself?”

      Logan looked away, down at the hands clasped in his lap. Hands with small black scales creeping up the backs, nails slightly pointed, like talons. He felt his throat tighten. 

     He gave Patton a slight nod. “Okay. I am sorry for making you worry.”

     Patton just hugged him.