Will logan finally sleep now he know thomas can drive the van on his own?? ~pastel pixie ps i boop all de children again
((Warning for a character thinking they might die.))
It had been hours since the revelation that they were now trapped in a van with a ghost. And they were trapped. Even if the doors weren't locked, the van was moving too fast for them to jump without dying. He didn't know where the ghost was driving them. It was likely the ghost itself didn't know.
He could hear Roman and Patton trying to converse with it in the backseat. It was probably smart to try to get on its good side if that were even possible. Yet, even knowing that, Logan hadn't been able to convince himself to join them in the effort.
Logan hadn't moved from the driver's seat despite the fact that he was no longer in control. The steering wheel moved under its own power, and Logan stared at it.
"Dinner?" Roman's voice asked.
"Food Specs," Roman repeated, offering him a plate of... something. It had cheese and maybe beans on toast.
Logan shrugged. Roman looked like he was going to say something, but then didn't, leaving the food and turning back to the back seat. Logan ate the food slowly enough that it had gone cold (Not that it had been particularly warm from the start. Roman didn't know how to use the waffle iron well.)
After a while, Roman joined him again. "We're going to try to sleep," Roman said. "Joining us?"
Logan shook his head. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in... he wasn’t even sure, at least 36 hours, but he couldn’t.
"C'mon Lo... there's... there's no reason not to." Because even if it decided to kill them, there was nothing they could do. It was out of their control. They were trapped in the van with a fully aware ghost. It could kill or harm them in a multitude of ways, and there wasn't any way to resist, at least not with the supplies they had at their disposal. Being awake wasn't going to change that. Logan still shook his head.
Roman sighed. "Fine," he said and disappeared. He spoke to Patton a bit and Logan could hear the sounds of sheets rustling.
His hands had been clasped uselessly in his lap for the past few hours. He looked down at them. His knuckles were white from squeezing.
“Are you going to kill us?” he finally asked, matter-of-fact. “That’s what most of your kind would do.” He waited for an answer.
The radio came on, the volume low. A slow song was playing. A denial? Logan wasn’t sure.
“What happened to the last person who was in this car?” he asked. “They left their purse and other belongings. Are they dead?”
The volume ticked down one notch. It seemed to be a no, but Logan wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if he should believe it even if it was meant to be a no.
“You have to admit,” he said levelly. “In all appearances, it seemed to be a trap. A Venus Flytrap luring in unaware and stupid insects. And I fell for it.”
The heater nearest to him had been facing away from him, but he suddenly felt the warmth from it hit his face. He turned it back away.
Logan was silent for a few long minutes. “I don’t want to die,” he finally said, his voice wavering slightly for the first time. He wrapped his arms around himself, “and I don’t want them to die. That’s the whole reason we’re even here.”
The heater switched back so it was blowing on his face again. He blinked at it tiredly, but didn’t more it back. The song ended and a new one started up, softer than the first. God, he was so tired.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wheel. It turned slightly under him. “Please don’t kill us,” he whispered into the wheel, eyes watering. Everything was far, far too much, and he started to cry silently. “Please don’t kill us.”
He wasn’t sure when crying finally turned into sleep.