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Jul 7

Bleeding Out

O'Knutzy Week Day 2: Love the Tremzy. Whump the Tremzy. Characters belong to @lumosinlove, prompts are from @oknutzy-week-2026!

TW for hockey injuries, blood

Early Morning (B2) | Longing (B5)

(Part 1/2)

Gryffindor took Tampa in a sweep. From the look of it, the Rangers were hungry for the same from Vegas. They even had good-luck charms in the Garden for game four: six Lions, tucked away in a family booth where their ballcap disguises didn’t matter so much. They wouldn’t be counted among opponents for another week, anyway. It was really nobody’s business how many people it took to convince Sirius Black a day trip wouldn’t jinx them. Leo maintained that the benefits of watching Logan take out Vegas in the first round far outweighed any advantage they might get from staying home. And on the subject of advantages, he had Remus on his side. Sirius never stood a chance.

“I love watching him lose,” Remus muttered into the rim of his solo cup. Leo was pretty sure that was only meant for Sirius’ ears; Sirius, who ducked his smile into the crook of Remus’ neck before kissing his temple.

“I still think you should let me fight him,” Sirius murmured back.

Remus, halfway through another sip of beer, shook his head. “You know how he gets that stupid look on his face? Right before he starts taking terrible shots? If I’m lucky, Tremzy’ll even punch him in the throat.”

Teeth scraped Leo’s ear as Sirius began to laugh. He pressed a blind kiss to Finn’s forehead and settled into the weight of his arms when they circled his waist. A sigh warmed his nape. “I love those top-shelf goals. I really, really do. And I know he’s doing it to drive me crazy. Knutty, can you believe he’s doing it just to drive me crazy?”

Leo smiled. “Sure, Harz. Just for you.”

“I mean, he could do anything,” Finn continued, running a hand along Leo’s lower belly with an absent sort of slowness. “This goalie—who is this, Hill?—I mean, seriously, Peanut, look how much fuckin’ room he’s leaving.”

“Shit’s wild,” Leo agreed.

“And yet.” Finn sighed again. His fingertips slipped under Leo’s shirt. “Top-shelf, baby. Every time.”

Leo hummed. “For your eyes only.”

Finn nuzzled into the side of his hair. “He’ll get a five-hole, next,” he whispered. “Just for you.”

Leo knew that. He’d seen Logan watching from the bench, all keen green eyes on the Jumbotron whenever it swept near the family box, squinting up at them when it was away. Logan’s excellence never made him a puck-hog. It was one of the many things Leo loved about him. He’d get two goals against Vegas tonight, and he’d probably try to fight Greyback if he could bait him into it before the final buzzer. That part, Leo didn’t love so much. Not the fighting—that would always get him riled. But Greyback wasn’t like the other big lugs Logan could grapple.

Leo glanced over to Remus. The two of them had slipped in halfway through the first to avoid the crowds and cameras, dressed down in hoodies and hats and standing just out of the camera’s scope. They weren’t quite as cozy as Finn and himself, but that was no surprise. They could barely sit still long enough to share a seat on their own couch for a full period. Sirius’ hand rested gently at the small of Remus’ back, though, and when the buzzer went a few seconds later, he watched Remus breathe out and lean his head on Sirius’ shoulder.

Finn patted his stomach twice. “Want a refill?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He made to leave, but Leo caught his wrist. Finn wrapped him up even closer with a small, pleased noise and gave his hips two quick squeezes. His eyes were bright when Leo turned to look at him. “Hi.”

“Hi, handsome.” Finn kissed his shoulder. Sweet boy. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Worried about something?”

Remus and Sirius were talking about something else, now, heads bowed together while Sirius pointed at the ice. Leo looked back to Finn and smiled. “Not too worried.”

Finn stole a sip of his drink. Leo watched him think for a moment, from the way his gaze trailed over to Remus to the dart of tongue over his gin-shiny lower lip. A light pat found his hip. “He’ll be okay,” Finn murmured.

“Not Loops I’m thinking about.”

“I know.” He always did. “We got a good one, Le. He can hold his own.”

Logan was very good. That’s what worried him. Maybe too much—not enough faith in Logan, too much trust in his squirming gut. But looking at Remus and Sirius, chatting with Noelle, he couldn’t bring himself to feel better. Twelve minutes left. He took his drink back from Finn with a kiss and a smile.

“Think we’ll be able to go say hi?”

“No way,” Finn laughed, looping an arm around his waist. “Not even a little. That big bunch of Rangers won’t want to see our faces until July.”

“I dunno,” Leo mused. “I do love some of those faces.”

Finn narrowed his eyes playfully as they meandered toward the snack table. “You’re allowed one.”

“Oh, yeah? We’re rationing Rangers, now?”

“And he barely even counts.”

Finn bent to grab a few cookies. Leo couldn’t help himself—he laid his head on Finn’s shoulder blade, slipping his hand into his back pocket on the way. Only for a moment, and with a silent thank you in the form of a kiss to his warm neck as he straightened.

Around them, families and lovers and the few kids too young to handle the stands milled about. Leo spotted a game of hide and seek with Will Morgan’s wife, Ray, as ‘home base’. Finn just watched him, a soft crease at his brow. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.

“I’ll be better when the game’s over.” And he’s back in Vegas.

“Me, too.” Finn pressed a shortbread cookie into his hand. “I think everyone will. You…”

“Hmm?”

Finn took a moment to answer, then smoothed his thumb over the side of Leo’s mouth. “Let me know if I can do anything, okay? Anything at all.”

“Thanks, honey.”

“Don’t fret all by yourself,” Finn added a few seconds later. They made their way toward the viewing window again, arm in arm like something out of an old Victorian painting. Leo felt like he was being perhaps a little too clingy, but Finn didn’t seem to mind. Just tilted his head when they made it back and shot a smile at his parents across the room. “Lo’s got Al and the rest of them out there with him. Then we’ll bring him home, and he’ll be all safe with us.”

Leo cupped that thought in two careful hands for the remainder of the break. Logan looked so good in the quick glances they got of him around the locker room. Five minutes before the start, while Finn laughed with Thomas and Noelle, Leo reached for his phone. He kept his eyes fixed on the shape of Logan’s shoulders meeting his neck on the small TV.

Message to: LT <3

Love you! Cheering for you :)

Damn it.

Message to: LT <3

Be careful <3

That would worry Logan. Or maybe not—Leo watched him glance at his phone, propped up on the shelf of his stall. Logan smiled. Good. That was better. A shadow stretched beside him.

“I want that fucker in Vegas by midnight.”

A soft snort answered. “You and me both.”

Leo closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Why?” Remus laughed, peering down at the ice. “I’d put the fucker in a catapult if I could. Jeez, hell of a view up here.”

“No kidding. Think they can hook us up with one of these in Gryff?”

“Nah, I like ours.”

Years into their friendship, Leo still couldn’t believe the way Remus watched the ice. Remus and Sirius, which really explained a lot more than most people knew. He’d only known Remus as a staff member for a year, but he’d known even then that the way he scanned the game was not normal for…well, anyone, but certainly not a trainer. They watched Logan skate out together.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said suddenly.

Remus glanced behind him. “What, me?”

“I just—” He gestured vaguely at the glass, and the game beginning again below. “All of that. It’s not fair. And I know you’re all good and everything, but I am. Sorry, I mean. It shouldn’t be hard like this.”

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. He patted Leo on the shoulder, eyes back on the game. “It’s not hard with you guys.”

“Good.” Leo swished a mouthful of ice water around. “Let me know if you want anyone to go in on that catapult with you, rookie.”

Back on the ice, for the third period of game four, your NEW! YORK! RANGERS!

Logan got his second goal of the night three minutes in. A five-hole. Finn bit his bicep, just below the edge of his shirtsleeve, and whispered told you in the sweetest sort of promise while the crowd chanted Logan’s name. It would be hell on earth to face them in the second round, but god, the things Leo would do to snatch that puck right out of the air and watch Logan’s eyes go flame-hot.

“We’re still good for later, right?” Remus asked, accepting a perfect cheese and cracker from Sirius.

Finn nodded. “Should be. They’ll want Lo for postgame—oh, nice steal, go baby go!”

Logan swept the puck out of the Rangers’ zone and took to the half, already winding up for a pass to Alex. It connected—Alex shot—the goalpost knocked it away, just barely, a near-miss that rebounded off the boards. Vegas’ new winger was closer, but Logan was hungry. He shouldered 64 out of the way and sniped it to Percy for a beautiful wraparound on the other side.

“Yes!” Finn hollered, slapping his palm to Leo’s. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby, absolute beauty!”

Logan and Percy jostled each other around as they headed out of the dog pile and toward the face-off. Leo liked Percy. He was wild and crazy and all-in-all a lot, but there was a little mirror-part of him that was so very much like Finn. He knew Percy had been there for the highest highs and lowest lows. It had never stopped him from being kind to Leo.

Finn groaned softly. “I want a hattie for him.”

Leo jerked his chin toward the ice. “I think he does, too.”

“The things he’ll get if he sinks it…”

“You got plans?”

Finn’s smile glimmered in the booth light. “Always.”

There was really no way for Vegas to come back from their deficit. Not with that kind of time, not with Saint in net. Leo was pretty sure New York’s defense would find a way to box the Knights out even in Saint’s absence. He respected them for their hunger, even if he didn’t like it from the other side. It was hard to hope they’d be tired before going head-to-head, when a sweep of Vegas sounded so good.

“There’s the face,” he heard Remus mutter.

Greyback was sweating hard. His hair stuck to his forehead under his visor as he shouted down the bench before standing and heading for the gate. It was hard to imagine him in the same room as Remus, let alone the same team. His expression defaulted to an ugly sort of rage, starved and rabid. It unsettled even his teammates. It certainly unsettled Leo.

Eight minutes remaining, and Logan got the puck again. He hadn’t had it a second when it happened.

“Fuck—”

Leo flinched as Logan folded gut-first over the Knight’s bench, Greyback’s weight behind him. His whole body visibly jerked, skates dangling. Finn shouted—whistles blew. The puck skipped away.

Greyback grabbed Logan by the back of the jersey and threw him to the ice.

“Oh my god,” Leo whispered. “Oh—”

Greyback’s skate met Logan’s stomach, vicious and mean and hard, both gloves braced on the boards for leverage. Logan jolted again and curled on his side, pinned between the boards and Greyback’s foot rising a second time—

The Rangers fell on him like wolves. Leo covered his mouth with both hands. He didn’t want to watch this. Oh, god, he didn’t want to see this. Greyback shook the refs off and skated backward to boos that rattled the windows. His lips twitched into a snarl. A grin.

Leo swore he looked right at them.

“Oh my god.” It tore out of him, muffled by his palm.

“—motherfucking maniac.”

Finn was yelling. He must have been, before. Leo hadn’t heard. A hand found his mid-back. Sirius. Unflinching and unblinking. Leo’s throat pulled hard enough to hurt. “He…”

“Go downstairs,” Sirius said quietly. His other arm was wrapped around Remus’ shoulders. God. Remus.

Leo’s ice water soaked into the carpet by his sneaker. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. “It’s because Logan’s good.”

Because you were good. Around and around. It never fucking ended. Remus stared at the ice as the medical team helped Logan off the ice, all shades of dark blue and red. He shook his head. “He knows I’m here.”

He’d been ready to kick Logan again. And again, and again, until—Leo didn’t want to know what Fenrir Greyback’s stopping point was. The whole team watched him limp down the tunnel, a trainer under one arm and Luke under the other.

Percy grabbed Greyback by the back of the jersey and slammed a fist across his face.

“Go downstairs,” Sirius repeated.

Captain’s orders. Leo figured he should probably let go of Finn’s wrist. He didn’t seem to mind, though, and they kept up a quick, steady pace through halls so empty Leo could hear each footfall. A security guard stepped forward when they reached the medical room. “Sir—”

“Move,” Finn said flatly. He didn’t wait for an answer; Leo clapped the guard on the shoulder as they passed through the door.

They weren’t alone.

The Rangers’ PT closed his eyes. “I said no visitors.”

“They’re fine.” Leo winced at the strain in Logan’s voice. “They’re fine, they can stay.”

“Goddamn right we can stay,” Finn muttered. He pulled a stool over to the side of Logan’s bed and pressed a kiss to the top of Noelle’s head. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her eyes remained locked on the PT as he palpated Logan’s thigh, then his calf. She must have left the second Logan folded. That explained the security guard.

“What are we doing?” Leo asked.

“Checking legs and arms,” Noelle answered before the PT could open his mouth. “Nothing so far. They’re looking at his chest and stomach next.”

“I feel great,” Logan said from the bed. He offered Leo a shaky grin, a little pale against the white pillow. “Hey, like my goals?”

Leo mustered something like a smile and squeezed his hand. “Real pretty, baby.”

“Nothing broken,” the PT said. He had moved on to Logan’s ankles. “Anything hurt, Tremblay?”

Logan laughed ruefully. “Everything. But not so bad.”

The PT nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Let’s get those pads off you and take a look. How’s your breathing?”

“Better, now.”

“Ribs?”

“Sore.”

The PT—Koch, Leo read—finally looked back to them. “If you’re going to be here, you can help him sit up.”

Good. Leo hadn’t planned on leaving either way. He took the head of the bed, where Logan was pressing himself up onto his elbows with a grimace. It felt odd to handle him in all his gear—Leo could feel straps and buckles bunch under his bare hands, all locked tight against Logan’s body. He got ahold of Logan’s underarms and took his weight, then brushed a kiss to his sweaty hair. “Hi.”

“Salut.”

“Okay here?”

“Ouais, it’s good.”

“We’re going to get that jersey off first,” Koch instructed. “Tremz, can you lift your arms?”

Leo eased his weight forward until Logan could brace against him. He managed to get his arms up, but not without a low noise. “Yeah.”

“We can always cut it off if it hurts.”

“Non, I’ll be quick.”

Leo watched Finn watch Logan as he pulled his jersey over his head. The crease between his auburn brows was back. Deeper, now. More intent. Leo watched it go slack in an instant. “Fuck, Lo.”

“Tabarnak,” Noelle mumbled.

“Is it bad?” Logan craned his neck down at an odd angle. “Get these things off, I can’t see.”

Koch clicked his tongue. “Pretty banged up, bud.”

The four of them worked Logan’s pads off in pieces. The release made Logan sigh and lean back, eyes closed, his abdomen free and bare. Leo’s stomach curdled. "Fucking Christ, Logan."

Banged up. Beaten, more like it. Brutalized. Leo couldn’t help it—he reached out to touch, and felt heat radiating off the mass of purple-blue-black spreading across Logan’s torso an inch before contact. “How’s the breathing?” Koch checked. Logan gave a thumbs-up. “Cramping?”

“A little. Sore, mostly. I’m coming off the adrenaline.”

Noelle glanced to Leo. “He got the wind knocked out of him.”

“No shit.”

“Did they throw Greyback out?”

“Percy fought him,” Finn chimed in. Logan’s eyebrows rose. “We didn’t see the rest.”

“We’ll win,” Logan said decisively, then winced. “Ugh. I should be excited.”

“Be excited at home tonight.” Koch felt around the abused area and made a face. “This will feel worse in an hour, and real bad in the morning. I can send you home with some pain meds and anti-inflammatories. Honestly, though, heading to urgent care or the hospital is not a bad idea.”

Logan made a face. “I’m too tired for a hospital.”

“You’re sure?”

“I don’t want to…” Logan trailed off. Noelle squeezed his hand. “Just, like, go sit there forever so they can give me meds and send me home. I really just want to sleep this off.”

“You should have someone stay with you overnight,” Koch said. “Just in case, I mean.”

Logan gestured to them. “I have three right here.”

“Are they going to be able to get you to a hospital if anything changes?”

“Absolutely.” Finn patted Logan’s calf. Leo could see the false edge in his smile from a mile away, but Logan seemed tired enough not to care. “Hear that, baby? We’ll even carry you to the car.”

“Please, no,” Logan laughed, then made a soft noise.

Koch’s eyes narrowed. “What feels bad?”

“Feels like I got kicked in the fucking stomach.”

“Lo,” Leo said quietly. Logan exhaled through his nose.

Waspish or not, Koch appeared unbothered by Logan’s attitude. He laid his hands over the darkest part of the bruise again and gave Logan a once-over. “I’m going to get those anti-inflammatories,” he said. “Lift your arms again?”

Logan waved his arms up and down, like he was doing jumping jacks. “See? Fine.”

“His back’s really tense,” Leo said.

Logan let his head thud back against Leo’s shoulder. “Come on.”

“I’ll get the medical staff to give a second opinion,” Koch said. He held both hands up as Logan began to protest. “Look, Tremz, I think you’ll be good in a couple days, but I’m not tossing you out the door without another set of eyes.”

“Just—” Logan turned to Finn, all hopeful and sweet. Leo nearly rolled his eyes. “Loops is upstairs, right? He knows me. He’s got his fancy doctor school stuff and everything, he counts.”

“Tremblay,” Koch said at the same time Finn sighed out a “Logan.”

“He does!”

“Oh, tais-toi,” Noelle grumbled, covering his mouth with her palm. “Hush. No more. Yes, Mr. Koch, please get your medical team to tell my idiot brother if he should go to the doctor. Thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Koch said.

Leo had never tried that method. He wasn’t sure it would work as well for him, though he had a few tricks of his own. The sides of Logan’s mouth tilted down in a hard frown when Noelle took her hand away and patted his arm. “Mean to me,” he muttered.

“You look like an eggplant.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Then go to the doctor,” she said slowly.

“I’ll be fine!” Logan spread his hands. “Look, I move, I breathe, I’m talking, I can argue.”

“You could argue from your grave, Lolo.”

Logan huffed and folded both hands on his stomach, winced, and laid them in his lap instead. He looked up at Leo, upside-down and far less flushed than he’d been on the TV screen. “Sorry I scared you.”

“Not your fault.”

“No,” Logan agreed. He looked down at Finn and held a hand out for him to take. “Sorry, Fish.”

Finn ran his thumb over Logan’s knuckles. Unbruised, for once. “Just glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Noelle added, standing only to sit on the side of the PT table and usher Logan a few inches over. She combed her fingers through his hair; his eyelids drooped. “We’ll check the game in a minute, d’accord? They probably suspended Greyback.”

“Dirty hit,” Logan said.

“Dirty kick,” Leo muttered.

“A mess,” Noelle agreed. “But not our mess. How’s your stomach?”

Logan wobbled his hand from side to side. “Been better. Bruised, probably.”

She laid her head on top of his, but kept one hand in his hair. She was petting Logan the same way their mother did—Leo had been pleasantly surprised by the tenderness of Iva’s hand on his head at dinner, slipping a few curls behind his ear with a thoughtless, yet no less intense, kind of care. Logan liked it, too. He let out a long sigh and Leo watched the tension in his legs fade away.

“Here,” he said, ratcheting the top section of the PT table up a few notches into more of a chair shape. Noelle helped Logan get comfortable, though Leo noticed she took most of his weight on herself. Their legs stretched in parallel down the length of the cushioned tabletop. He’d never noticed how their feet turned inward at the same angle.

Finn straightened Noelle’s stool out for him when he came back around, bringing it close to his own. “And now we wait,” he said quietly. His palm smoothed up Logan’s thigh, then up to the ink-spill of a bruise. His splayed fingers stood vivid in their paleness. Finn ran his thumb across the lower boundary, then laid his hand back over the heart of it. He frowned.

“Lo?”

As quickly as it had eased, Leo’s heart rate kickstarted again.

“Hmm?” came Logan’s tired answer.

Noelle sat up the rest of the way, frowning. “Why are you purple?”

“My stomach hurts.”

“You’re—Finn, do you see this?”

“Hang on, he’s all…tense, here, I don’t know.” Finn prodded the purpled skin, then seemed to see something in Logan’s face, too. “Yeah, right around his—"

“Mouth,” Noelle finished. She shook Logan’s shoulder. Gentle at first, then harder. “Logan. Look at me.”

“Arrêtes,” he muttered, peering out at her through one slitted eye. “Let me nap, it’s been a long night.”

“Noelle.” The urgent undertone of Finn’s voice raised every hair on Leo’s neck. “He doesn’t feel right.”

“He’s breathing faster.” Noelle rubbed her palm along the center of Logan’s chest, even when he tried to push her away. “Come on, Lolo, look at me.”

Logan started to speak, then stopped. He blinked both eyes open with a hard breath out through his nose. He held himself awkwardly—too still, too wary. Leo watched him glance down at himself, at the table, and take another labored breath, brows knitted like he’d missed an easy pass. A shudder rattled from the tops of his shoulders to his socked feet. “Nolly.”

“I’m here,” she said immediately, wrapping her arm fully around his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Lo,” Leo said. Even as the words left his mouth, it felt like a lie.

Another shiver. Fast breaths, shallow breaths. Leo’s lungs hurt just looking at him. They caught in Logan’s chest and flared his nostrils like each one took a thousand tons of effort. He wet his lips. His gaze slid to the side, and only focused after a few blinks. “J’ne sais…”

“C’est bon.”

Logan shook his head, then laid it on her shoulder again. His face twisted the moment he moved.

She murmured something into his hair, then turned to Finn and Leo. “He’s cold—”

Logan lurched. In a single rush of motion, red poured down the front of Noelle’s shirt, across her lap, and began to pool on the floor of the PT room.

Leo ran.

Noelle’s blistering scream followed him out the door.

Koch and his collection of medics were already running when Leo found them, coffee cups sloshing in their hands. Leo twisted his fist in the front of a Ranger-blue quarter-zip and hauled him back down the hallway at a sprint. “What—”

“Fix it!”

One of the medics shouted when they crossed the threshold. There was a lot of shouting, actually. Leo let it blur like a crowd and beelined for the table. Logan: slumped and still. Finn: holding both of Logan’s hands. Noelle: holding the rest of Logan’s upper body in her arms and lap, where he had evidently passed right the fuck out. She looked like she’d fallen out of a bad remake of Carrie. The whole fucking room was the set.

Leo heard sirens echo from the back of the building. More rapid footsteps, more people, and Logan. Still laying limp. Leo knelt by his head and swallowed hard at the warmth seeping through the knees of his jeans. “Logan? Lo, can you hear me?”

“He’s out, he just went fucking out,” Noelle sobbed, clutching him to her as the medics closed in. “Allez, Bear, reste avec moi—"

“Ms. Tremblay—"

“No!” she howled.

Leo let the medics body him out of the way. He hit something solid; arms came around him, and he was on his feet in one tug, but Finn had been bullied all the way on the other side of the room. He was watching them load Logan onto a stretcher, ghost-white. A medic barred his path. Leo sucked in a breath. “I…”

“Stay here,” Sirius ordered. Leo could have cried. Oh, fuck, he was definitely going to cry. Sirius was holding him like he’d bolt. Leo didn’t know how to tell him it was more likely he’d collapse. “Sit.”

He sat. He didn’t know whose chair he was in, but he sat. Sirius moved around him like a shadow and steered Finn to the adjacent seat by his shoulders.

“Stay,” he repeated, pointing to the pair of them. “Do not move. I’ll be back in two minutes. Count.”

“One,” Finn said shakily. He held onto the chair with both hands. “Two. Three.”

Noelle was still crying, somewhere in the vastness beyond the room. The underside of her sneaker was stamped in crimson on the floor. Leo blinked fast.

“Four,” Finn continued, voice wobbling harder. “Five.”

Someone was yelling in the hallway. Unfamiliar—no, very familiar, and very loud.

“Eight. Is that—”

“What the fuck were you doing?” Very, very familiar, yet so foreign in its thunderous anger. “It’s internal bleeding, you stupid motherfucker! It’s goddamn hypovolemic shock! He came in with—HE CAME IN WITH A TRAUMATIC BRUISE AND LABORED BREATHING, AND YOU WENT FOR ANTI FUCKING INFLAMMATORIES AND A COFFEE?”

“Oh, shit,” Finn choked out.

“This is your job! THEY ARE YOUR JOB!”

The shouting died out for half a second.

“A MISTAKE? You left a patient to puke blood on his fucking sister! HE COULD HAVE DIED ON YOUR TABLE, YOU IRRESPONSIBLE SON OF A BITCH!”

Leo reached for Finn. He’d made it to number sixty-five. The chair arms wedged against his side at an awkward angle, but Finn clutched at the back of his shirt and pressed his face to Leo’s shoulder like it was his only anchor on earth.

The door hit the wall. A picture fell flat to Koch’s desk with the impact. “Jesus,” he heard Remus mutter, then quick footsteps crossing linoleum. “Hey,” he said, gentler. The back of a cool hand came to rest on Leo’s forehead, then a palm just below his nape. “Hey, come on. We’re gonna get out of here, okay?”

“We’re good,” Leo managed. His vision blurred. “We’re good.”

“I know, bud.” Remus put his hand on Finn’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. “They’re taking Logan to the hospital right now. I bet he’ll want to see you when he wakes up, right?”

Finn was one solid tremor in Leo’s arms. “Is he alive?”

Leo watched Remus’ face do something complicated. “Yeah, Harz. He’s alive. They’re taking real good care of him.”

“Cap told us to stay.”

“He’s helping Noelle right now.” Remus’ knuckles rubbed short, quick lines along the side of Finn’s spine. “He asked me to come get you two. Finn, can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna pass out?”

Finn pulled in a shuddering, tear-filled breath. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, man, you’re shaking pretty bad.”

Touch. Leo flinched at the sensation.

“You with me, Knut?”

Leo nodded, and nodded, and broke.

Remus didn’t balk at the first garbled sob, nor the second. When Leo came back to himself, dry-mouthed and riddled with a headache he hadn’t had five minutes ago, he’d sweated through his shirt. It didn’t even make him feel worse.

“Keep breathing,” Remus murmured. “Good job, that’s really great. We’re going to try standing up now, okay?”

He swayed badly, clutching Finn for support, but they made it. Lukewarm water dribbled down the inside of Leo’s wrist. Paper towels. Damp, like the glistening floor. Leo licked his lips. Chemicals and salt the whole way down.

“I promise,” Remus was saying, low and soothing like a lullaby Leo couldn’t remember. “Keep those there, Harz. I’ll get you some water.”

Finn was crying. Oh, he hated it when Finn cried. It broke his heart right open. Leo swiped the handful of paper towels down his face and shuddered at the cool air that followed. He made his wooden feet take a few steps toward the door.

“Nope, nope, nope.” A grip on his arms shocked Leo away from the buzz in his ears. Remus lifted his hand for him and pressed it to his neck. Water began trickling down the soaked back of his shirt.

Leo shook his head. “He’s not dead.”

“He’s not,” Remus agreed, guiding Finn over with a hand on his back. “He’s at the hospital.”

“It’s because Logan’s good.” They made their way across the room. Someone should put up a ‘wet floor’ sign, Leo thought. Between Finn’s clenched fistful of damp paper towels and his own dripping rivers down his spine, this place would be a slipping hazard sooner rather than later. Someone had tossed a few towels down—the red was gone. Leo could still see it when he blinked. A tang lingered in the air. He nodded to himself. “He hurt him ‘cause he’s good. He always does that. Logan’s so good.”

“Merci,” Sirius murmured, kissing Remus’ forehead quickly. The hallway around them was—was a mess. Sirius had blood on his shirt. Not as much as Noelle, but Leo frowned.

“Your shirt.”

“She’s fine,” Sirius assured him. “I’m driving you two to the hospital, d’accord?”

“Who’s fine?”

“What?”

“She’s fine,” Leo repeated. “Who?”

Sirius glanced down the hallway, toward the bathrooms. “Uh, Noelle. She was—upset. But she’s okay. Thomas is with her.”

“Is she coming?”

“Where?”

Too many follow-up questions. Leo was getting impatient. “Is she coming to the hospital with us?”

“Not right now.” Sirius gave him a strained smile and pried the wad of paper towels from his hand, then Finn’s. “Thomas will drive her. Let’s be quick, ouais? Is one of you his emergency contact?”

They’d joked about it, at the start of the season. Lots of back and forth about if you’re in an emergency, he’s going to be right next to you and we should all put Loops and see what he says and wait, no, do Kuny, it’ll be funny and am I too old to put my mom on mine? “Both.”

The throbbing in Leo’s head had started leaving a pretty little star in the left side of his vision. He let Sirius shepherd them toward the exit, blinking slowly to clear it. It worked for seawater. At home, and in Nice. They made it all the way to the car, parked in the players’ lot, before he could find words again. “Dumo.”

The engine rumbled to life. “What about him?”

“Dumo’s his other emergency contact.” Beside him, Finn nodded. His eyelid was twitching fast. Leo put a hand on his thigh, and in a second Finn’s palm had folded over it. “It’s us and then him. And then his mom, I think.”

Sirius kept his headlights off until they made it to the main road. “He doesn’t have anyone in New York?”

“Um.” He couldn’t think. Sensation returned to his fingers and toes in a tingling wave, but his brain… “Luke, probably. We didn’t want to put people on our teams.”

“Why?”

“We figured if something happened, it’d be on the bus,” Finn said. His thumbnail ran along the outer seam of his jeans in one long highway, then back up, juddering over the bump of each stitch. He pressed his other hand over his eyes. “Or, like, a plane or something. Or practice. Everyone would be there.”

“We’re—” Sirius broke off with a sigh, like the red light personally offended him. “Okay, we’re changing that when we’re at the hospital.”

A few other things came first. Logan’s surgery, for instance. And one hell of a hullabaloo about blood transfusions. Leo forgot about blood banks entirely and nearly called Noelle before the nurse stopped him. He and Finn were awarded the illustrious honor of sitting outside the OR for over an hour.

Someone had found Noelle a change of clothes. Thomas, Leo realized when she fell into his arms. She smelled like Thomas. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair. She held on to him tight, then went right for Finn.

There wasn’t much to say after that. Leo didn’t want to know the answers to any of his questions except one.

Alex showed up a few minutes before ten with food and hot tea for each of them. That hug nearly did Leo in. He’d wanted to hide in the safe arch of Alex’s body and let him handle the onslaught of questions for a while. But he couldn’t. Not forever.

More waiting, and more updates that sent Leo’s heart into his throat only to be told that Logan was doing great. That he just needed some time to rest up before receiving visitors. Leo wasn’t sure how Logan could possibly do better alone in a recovery room than he would with them beside him, but he’d left his energy somewhere between Remus’ shoulder and the doors of the hospital.

In an unusual turn, it was Finn that caught a second wind just past eleven o’clock, with a mutter of fucking bullshit and a hard kiss to the crown of Leo’s head. They were at Logan’s side with a pair of stupid little bracelets in a matter of minutes.

“Do you think he’ll have a scar?”

Finn looked over at him, one hand still tucking the edge of the blanket under Logan’s ribs. Confused, then soft as new snow. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, real sexy.”

“Hear that, Lo?” Leo squeezed his hand and tried to ignore the lack of response. “You’ll be rugged.”

“They suspended Greyback.”

Leo would have preferred a death notice, but that worked. “Good.”

“And we won,” Finn added. He stroked the side of Logan’s sleeping face, mouth turning down at the sides. “I asked. He’ll want to know.”

“He will.”

Finn stared for a long moment, then groaned out a fuck and carded both hands through his hair, folding them at the back of his neck. He put his forehead on the crisp white sheets. “I don’t get it, Le. I just don’t. I can’t even—the fact that he’s still there, that they might still let him play.”

“It’s what he does.” Around and around and over and over.

“Remus said—”

“He didn’t know.” Leo wouldn’t stand for it. “They came late and they were never on the cameras. He did it because of Logan.”

Finn rested his chin on his forearms. His eyes were red-rimmed, face flushed. “It wasn’t Lo’s fault.”

“Logan’s good,” Leo said quietly. “This is what he does.”

“He knew Remus would be watching.” Red hair, falling prettily over his ears even mussed as it was. “Even if he thought he was at home, he knew.”

“Sure. Does it matter?”

“No.” Finn sat back, legs akimbo, restless hands tangling in his lap. He let out a low groan and let his head drop onto Leo’s shoulder. “I hate this. I hate that he’s ever been on the fucking ice, I hate that they might let him back, I hate that there’s a fucking—pattern, Le, and nobody even knows.”

Leo had missed his voice in those silent minutes.

“It’s not right.” He was fever-hot, close like this. Logan had been cold. “It’s not okay. Someone needs to know. I don’t fucking care if Loops just wants to, like, do his Zen get-over-it bullshit or whatever, someone needs to fucking stop him. I can’t keep doing this. Every time he’s out on the ice with you two I’ m just…”

Finn broke off with another groan. Privately, Leo was pretty sure there wasn’t an ounce of get-over-it in Remus’ body. And his dedication to dismantling Greyback’s legacy year by year, point by point, humiliation by humiliation, was pretty far from Zen.

“We could’ve been home.” Finn’s voice broke. Leo closed his eyes. “Jesus, we could’ve been four fucking hours away. What if nobody had been with him? That fucking PT was just going to let him bleed out on a table. I can’t take this. I can’t watch him get away with it again.”

When Alex stole a reluctant Finn away, and Noelle went to check in with Thomas at the end of the hall, Leo had taken a moment to call his mother. She’d heard Logan was taken to the hospital, but not much else. Twitter knew more. Someone got a shaky, out-of-focus video of Noelle before Sirius had taken their phone and thrown it in the nearest trash can. Can you tell us what happened? Can you tell us how you’re feeling?

I’m fucking covered in my little brother’s fucking blood!

“I don’t think Remus has to tell anyone.”

Finn sighed, slumping in his seat. “Leo…”

“We can’t make him. Not like this.” Fucking covered. She’d been holding Logan. Cradling him. Remus had been alone. And tonight, his sharp teeth, hidden by cautious walls. Leo didn’t think he’d been like that, before. “It needs to be its own thing. He deserves that much.”

He saw it in Logan’s chest, first. The same shift-stutter-sigh that greeted him in the earliest early mornings, when the moon and sun had both left Leo behind. Finn heard it, too, and took Logan’s hand in his between one breath and the next.

“Morning, baby,” Leo whispered.

In the low orange light, Logan’s eyes were nearly hazel. The tiny oxygen tubes pulled when he turned his head; his nose crinkled, mouth turning down. “Quoi…?”

“How are you feeling?” Finn asked. “Hi, Lo baby, hi.”

“Le match…” Logan trailed off, frowning harder. “Noelle.”

Leo exchanged a look with Finn. He didn’t want to leave, but he certainly didn’t want to squabble pointlessly over who should go. Finn stood, and smoothed a hand over Leo’s head with a soft kiss for his temple. “I’ll get her.”

“Thanks,” Leo murmured.

Finn just kissed him again. Three taps to his shoulder, three taps for Logan’s hand. Leo’s heart ached.

Logan took in a long breath, then let it out slow. He was still looking at Leo. “Did I throw up on her?” he asked in hazy French. “I think…I don’t remember. She was with me.”

“Does your stomach still hurt?”

“Non.”

“That’s good.” Leo straightened the oxygen tubes, mostly to give his hands something to do. Logan’s cheeks were soft under his thumb when he stroked over them. “You did throw up earlier, but it was just blood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

Leo blew out a breath. “Fenrir Greyback?”

“What a fuck.”

“What a fuck,” he agreed. “He hit you. Too hard.”

“Kicked me.”

“Yeah,” Leo said quietly. “That, too. Your bruise was—you were bleeding inside. Your gear kept it under pressure until we took it off to check you out.”

“It was bad.”

Tears pressed at the back of Leo’s throat. He glanced at the ceiling to will them back, then nodded. “Yeah, pretty bad.”

Logan nodded. “Did we win?”

“Mhm.” One streaked down his cheek; Leo made sure to swipe it off on his shoulder before taking Logan’s hand between his own. A few careful rubs brought some warmth back to the tips. He needed to touch. To feel him move. “Percy fought for you.”

“He thinks you’re great.”

Leo managed a wet laugh. “Oh, yeah?”

“I made him a believer. Wasn’t hard.”

“Well, you can tell him I’m a big fan, too. He’s probably banging the door down right now.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Logan mumbled. The medication kept his eyelids heavy and his voice low, but when he adjusted his head on the pillow to look at Leo head-on, his focus was good. He sighed when Leo laced their fingers together.

The two of them were good at comfortable silence. Leo let it wash over him, a cool wave, a calm wind. He laid his head on the pillow next to Logan. He used to long for him so badly it hurt. This was worse, this was so, so much worse, but he’d take a hundred doses of that longing if it meant he could stay here for another second. Leo watched him blink and breathe in peaceful oblivion across a few inches of clean cotton. Rip the bandaid off—one quick stroke. He hated being the unfair one. Perhaps this Logan, pink-cheeked and foggy, would forgive him fast.

“You’re out for the playoffs, Lo.”

Logan’s exhale quavered. “I know.”

I’m so sorry. It wasn’t the time for apologies. Logan didn’t need them. Not from him, at least. Leo had a long list of people who owed Logan far more than an apology tonight.

But that list did not include Noelle, who brought no noise with her when she arrived. Leo had seen that zip-up hoodie on Ray Morgan this afternoon. She folded herself into the infinitesimal space between Logan’s arm and the rail of the bed and said nothing for several minutes.

“Thomas called the girls. And maman.”

Logan nodded. “Sorry I threw up on you.”

Leo didn’t have a name for the look on her face. The four of them were so…he didn’t even know. He wasn't sure he ever would. The way they spoke to each other with no words at all—the way they saw each other, intense eyes piercing through masks and lies down to the marrow of their bones. Logan and his sisters were cut from the same tight-woven cloth. They could say one thing, mean something entirely different, and be understood all the same.

Finn’s hands came to rest on his shoulders. They gave a tiny pulse; Leo leaned into it and kissed his forefinger. It wasn’t enough. He reached back and pulled on Finn’s sleeve until he came around the side of Leo’s chair, and Leo was gifted a small, tired smile when he brought Finn down to sit in his lap.

There. Better. Both arms around Finn’s body, whole and unbruised. His heartbeat, calm under Leo’s touch. Body heat and the familiar scent of him. He’d stolen Logan’s cologne before they left for the game. Extra luck, baby-baby. You’ve got someone in the box who loves you. Noelle’s strong arm laid across the pillow, above Logan’s head in a protective arc. She tucked a lock of his hair over his ear. Leo held tight to Finn. They watched him fall asleep.

#leo knut #finn ohara #logan tremblay #noelle tremblay #remus lupin #sirius black #fenrir greyback #thomas walker #sweater weather #vaincre #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #oknutzy week 2026 #hurt/ comfort #cubs #oknutzy

fruitcoops

Jul 7

Bleeding Out

O'Knutzy Week Day 2: Love the Tremzy. Whump the Tremzy. Characters belong to @lumosinlove, prompts are from @oknutzy-week-2026!

TW for hockey injuries, blood

Early Morning (B2) | Longing (B5)

(Part 1/2)

“I still think you should let me fight him,” Sirius murmured back.

Leo smiled. “Sure, Harz. Just for you.”

“Shit’s wild,” Leo agreed.

“And yet.” Finn sighed again. His fingertips slipped under Leo’s shirt. “Top-shelf, baby. Every time.”

Leo hummed. “For your eyes only.”

Finn nuzzled into the side of his hair. “He’ll get a five-hole, next,” he whispered. “Just for you.”

Finn patted his stomach twice. “Want a refill?”

“Hi, handsome.” Finn kissed his shoulder. Sweet boy. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Worried about something?”

Remus and Sirius were talking about something else, now, heads bowed together while Sirius pointed at the ice. Leo looked back to Finn and smiled. “Not too worried.”

“Not Loops I’m thinking about.”

“I know.” He always did. “We got a good one, Le. He can hold his own.”

“Think we’ll be able to go say hi?”

“No way,” Finn laughed, looping an arm around his waist. “Not even a little. That big bunch of Rangers won’t want to see our faces until July.”

“I dunno,” Leo mused. “I do love some of those faces.”

Finn narrowed his eyes playfully as they meandered toward the snack table. “You’re allowed one.”

“Oh, yeah? We’re rationing Rangers, now?”

“And he barely even counts.”

“I’ll be better when the game’s over.” And he’s back in Vegas.

“Me, too.” Finn pressed a shortbread cookie into his hand. “I think everyone will. You…”

“Hmm?”

Finn took a moment to answer, then smoothed his thumb over the side of Leo’s mouth. “Let me know if I can do anything, okay? Anything at all.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Message to: LT <3

Love you! Cheering for you :)

Damn it.

Message to: LT <3

Be careful <3

That would worry Logan. Or maybe not—Leo watched him glance at his phone, propped up on the shelf of his stall. Logan smiled. Good. That was better. A shadow stretched beside him.

“I want that fucker in Vegas by midnight.”

A soft snort answered. “You and me both.”

Leo closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Why?” Remus laughed, peering down at the ice. “I’d put the fucker in a catapult if I could. Jeez, hell of a view up here.”

“No kidding. Think they can hook us up with one of these in Gryff?”

“Nah, I like ours.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo said suddenly.

Remus glanced behind him. “What, me?”

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. He patted Leo on the shoulder, eyes back on the game. “It’s not hard with you guys.”

“Good.” Leo swished a mouthful of ice water around. “Let me know if you want anyone to go in on that catapult with you, rookie.”

Back on the ice, for the third period of game four, your NEW! YORK! RANGERS!

“We’re still good for later, right?” Remus asked, accepting a perfect cheese and cracker from Sirius.

Finn nodded. “Should be. They’ll want Lo for postgame—oh, nice steal, go baby go!”

“Yes!” Finn hollered, slapping his palm to Leo’s. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby, absolute beauty!”

Finn groaned softly. “I want a hattie for him.”

Leo jerked his chin toward the ice. “I think he does, too.”

“The things he’ll get if he sinks it…”

“You got plans?”

Finn’s smile glimmered in the booth light. “Always.”

“There’s the face,” he heard Remus mutter.

Eight minutes remaining, and Logan got the puck again. He hadn’t had it a second when it happened.

“Fuck—”

Leo flinched as Logan folded gut-first over the Knight’s bench, Greyback’s weight behind him. His whole body visibly jerked, skates dangling. Finn shouted—whistles blew. The puck skipped away.

Greyback grabbed Logan by the back of the jersey and threw him to the ice.

“Oh my god,” Leo whispered. “Oh—”

Leo swore he looked right at them.

“Oh my god.” It tore out of him, muffled by his palm.

“—motherfucking maniac.”

Finn was yelling. He must have been, before. Leo hadn’t heard. A hand found his mid-back. Sirius. Unflinching and unblinking. Leo’s throat pulled hard enough to hurt. “He…”

“Go downstairs,” Sirius said quietly. His other arm was wrapped around Remus’ shoulders. God. Remus.

Leo’s ice water soaked into the carpet by his sneaker. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. “It’s because Logan’s good.”

Percy grabbed Greyback by the back of the jersey and slammed a fist across his face.

“Go downstairs,” Sirius repeated.

“Move,” Finn said flatly. He didn’t wait for an answer; Leo clapped the guard on the shoulder as they passed through the door.

They weren’t alone.

The Rangers’ PT closed his eyes. “I said no visitors.”

“They’re fine.” Leo winced at the strain in Logan’s voice. “They’re fine, they can stay.”

“Goddamn right we can stay,” Finn muttered. He pulled a stool over to the side of Logan’s bed and pressed a kiss to the top of Noelle’s head. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her eyes remained locked on the PT as he palpated Logan’s thigh, then his calf. She must have left the second Logan folded. That explained the security guard.

“What are we doing?” Leo asked.

“Checking legs and arms,” Noelle answered before the PT could open his mouth. “Nothing so far. They’re looking at his chest and stomach next.”

“I feel great,” Logan said from the bed. He offered Leo a shaky grin, a little pale against the white pillow. “Hey, like my goals?”

Leo mustered something like a smile and squeezed his hand. “Real pretty, baby.”

“Nothing broken,” the PT said. He had moved on to Logan’s ankles. “Anything hurt, Tremblay?”

Logan laughed ruefully. “Everything. But not so bad.”

The PT nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Let’s get those pads off you and take a look. How’s your breathing?”

“Better, now.”

“Ribs?”

“Sore.”

The PT—Koch, Leo read—finally looked back to them. “If you’re going to be here, you can help him sit up.”

“Salut.”

“Okay here?”

“Ouais, it’s good.”

“We’re going to get that jersey off first,” Koch instructed. “Tremz, can you lift your arms?”

Leo eased his weight forward until Logan could brace against him. He managed to get his arms up, but not without a low noise. “Yeah.”

“We can always cut it off if it hurts.”

“Non, I’ll be quick.”

Leo watched Finn watch Logan as he pulled his jersey over his head. The crease between his auburn brows was back. Deeper, now. More intent. Leo watched it go slack in an instant. “Fuck, Lo.”

“Tabarnak,” Noelle mumbled.

“Is it bad?” Logan craned his neck down at an odd angle. “Get these things off, I can’t see.”

Koch clicked his tongue. “Pretty banged up, bud.”

The four of them worked Logan’s pads off in pieces. The release made Logan sigh and lean back, eyes closed, his abdomen free and bare. Leo’s stomach curdled. "Fucking Christ, Logan."

“A little. Sore, mostly. I’m coming off the adrenaline.”

Noelle glanced to Leo. “He got the wind knocked out of him.”

“No shit.”

“Did they throw Greyback out?”

“Percy fought him,” Finn chimed in. Logan’s eyebrows rose. “We didn’t see the rest.”

“We’ll win,” Logan said decisively, then winced. “Ugh. I should be excited.”

Logan made a face. “I’m too tired for a hospital.”

“You’re sure?”

“I don’t want to…” Logan trailed off. Noelle squeezed his hand. “Just, like, go sit there forever so they can give me meds and send me home. I really just want to sleep this off.”

“You should have someone stay with you overnight,” Koch said. “Just in case, I mean.”

Logan gestured to them. “I have three right here.”

“Are they going to be able to get you to a hospital if anything changes?”

“Please, no,” Logan laughed, then made a soft noise.

Koch’s eyes narrowed. “What feels bad?”

“Feels like I got kicked in the fucking stomach.”

“Lo,” Leo said quietly. Logan exhaled through his nose.

Logan waved his arms up and down, like he was doing jumping jacks. “See? Fine.”

“His back’s really tense,” Leo said.

Logan let his head thud back against Leo’s shoulder. “Come on.”

“Just—” Logan turned to Finn, all hopeful and sweet. Leo nearly rolled his eyes. “Loops is upstairs, right? He knows me. He’s got his fancy doctor school stuff and everything, he counts.”

“Tremblay,” Koch said at the same time Finn sighed out a “Logan.”

“He does!”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Koch said.

“You look like an eggplant.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Then go to the doctor,” she said slowly.

“I’ll be fine!” Logan spread his hands. “Look, I move, I breathe, I’m talking, I can argue.”

“You could argue from your grave, Lolo.”

“Not your fault.”

“No,” Logan agreed. He looked down at Finn and held a hand out for him to take. “Sorry, Fish.”

Finn ran his thumb over Logan’s knuckles. Unbruised, for once. “Just glad you’re okay.”

“Dirty hit,” Logan said.

“Dirty kick,” Leo muttered.

“A mess,” Noelle agreed. “But not our mess. How’s your stomach?”

Logan wobbled his hand from side to side. “Been better. Bruised, probably.”

“Lo?”

As quickly as it had eased, Leo’s heart rate kickstarted again.

“Hmm?” came Logan’s tired answer.

Noelle sat up the rest of the way, frowning. “Why are you purple?”

“My stomach hurts.”

“You’re—Finn, do you see this?”

“Hang on, he’s all…tense, here, I don’t know.” Finn prodded the purpled skin, then seemed to see something in Logan’s face, too. “Yeah, right around his—"

“Mouth,” Noelle finished. She shook Logan’s shoulder. Gentle at first, then harder. “Logan. Look at me.”

“Arrêtes,” he muttered, peering out at her through one slitted eye. “Let me nap, it’s been a long night.”

“Noelle.” The urgent undertone of Finn’s voice raised every hair on Leo’s neck. “He doesn’t feel right.”

“He’s breathing faster.” Noelle rubbed her palm along the center of Logan’s chest, even when he tried to push her away. “Come on, Lolo, look at me.”

“I’m here,” she said immediately, wrapping her arm fully around his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Lo,” Leo said. Even as the words left his mouth, it felt like a lie.

“C’est bon.”

Logan shook his head, then laid it on her shoulder again. His face twisted the moment he moved.

She murmured something into his hair, then turned to Finn and Leo. “He’s cold—”

Logan lurched. In a single rush of motion, red poured down the front of Noelle’s shirt, across her lap, and began to pool on the floor of the PT room.

Leo ran.

Noelle’s blistering scream followed him out the door.

“Fix it!”

“He’s out, he just went fucking out,” Noelle sobbed, clutching him to her as the medics closed in. “Allez, Bear, reste avec moi—"

“Ms. Tremblay—"

“No!” she howled.

He sat. He didn’t know whose chair he was in, but he sat. Sirius moved around him like a shadow and steered Finn to the adjacent seat by his shoulders.

“Stay,” he repeated, pointing to the pair of them. “Do not move. I’ll be back in two minutes. Count.”

“One,” Finn said shakily. He held onto the chair with both hands. “Two. Three.”

Noelle was still crying, somewhere in the vastness beyond the room. The underside of her sneaker was stamped in crimson on the floor. Leo blinked fast.

“Four,” Finn continued, voice wobbling harder. “Five.”

Someone was yelling in the hallway. Unfamiliar—no, very familiar, and very loud.

“Eight. Is that—”

“Oh, shit,” Finn choked out.

“This is your job! THEY ARE YOUR JOB!”

The shouting died out for half a second.

“A MISTAKE? You left a patient to puke blood on his fucking sister! HE COULD HAVE DIED ON YOUR TABLE, YOU IRRESPONSIBLE SON OF A BITCH!”

“We’re good,” Leo managed. His vision blurred. “We’re good.”

“I know, bud.” Remus put his hand on Finn’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. “They’re taking Logan to the hospital right now. I bet he’ll want to see you when he wakes up, right?”

Finn was one solid tremor in Leo’s arms. “Is he alive?”

Leo watched Remus’ face do something complicated. “Yeah, Harz. He’s alive. They’re taking real good care of him.”

“Cap told us to stay.”

“He’s helping Noelle right now.” Remus’ knuckles rubbed short, quick lines along the side of Finn’s spine. “He asked me to come get you two. Finn, can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna pass out?”

Finn pulled in a shuddering, tear-filled breath. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, man, you’re shaking pretty bad.”

Touch. Leo flinched at the sensation.

“You with me, Knut?”

Leo nodded, and nodded, and broke.

“Keep breathing,” Remus murmured. “Good job, that’s really great. We’re going to try standing up now, okay?”

“I promise,” Remus was saying, low and soothing like a lullaby Leo couldn’t remember. “Keep those there, Harz. I’ll get you some water.”

Leo shook his head. “He’s not dead.”

“He’s not,” Remus agreed, guiding Finn over with a hand on his back. “He’s at the hospital.”

“Merci,” Sirius murmured, kissing Remus’ forehead quickly. The hallway around them was—was a mess. Sirius had blood on his shirt. Not as much as Noelle, but Leo frowned.

“Your shirt.”

“She’s fine,” Sirius assured him. “I’m driving you two to the hospital, d’accord?”

“Who’s fine?”

“What?”

“She’s fine,” Leo repeated. “Who?”

Sirius glanced down the hallway, toward the bathrooms. “Uh, Noelle. She was—upset. But she’s okay. Thomas is with her.”

“Is she coming?”

“Where?”

Too many follow-up questions. Leo was getting impatient. “Is she coming to the hospital with us?”

The engine rumbled to life. “What about him?”

Sirius kept his headlights off until they made it to the main road. “He doesn’t have anyone in New York?”

“Um.” He couldn’t think. Sensation returned to his fingers and toes in a tingling wave, but his brain… “Luke, probably. We didn’t want to put people on our teams.”

“Why?”

“We’re—” Sirius broke off with a sigh, like the red light personally offended him. “Okay, we’re changing that when we’re at the hospital.”

There wasn’t much to say after that. Leo didn’t want to know the answers to any of his questions except one.

“Do you think he’ll have a scar?”

Finn looked over at him, one hand still tucking the edge of the blanket under Logan’s ribs. Confused, then soft as new snow. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, real sexy.”

“Hear that, Lo?” Leo squeezed his hand and tried to ignore the lack of response. “You’ll be rugged.”

“They suspended Greyback.”

Leo would have preferred a death notice, but that worked. “Good.”

“And we won,” Finn added. He stroked the side of Logan’s sleeping face, mouth turning down at the sides. “I asked. He’ll want to know.”

“He will.”

“It’s what he does.” Around and around and over and over.

“Remus said—”

“He didn’t know.” Leo wouldn’t stand for it. “They came late and they were never on the cameras. He did it because of Logan.”

Finn rested his chin on his forearms. His eyes were red-rimmed, face flushed. “It wasn’t Lo’s fault.”

“Logan’s good,” Leo said quietly. “This is what he does.”

“He knew Remus would be watching.” Red hair, falling prettily over his ears even mussed as it was. “Even if he thought he was at home, he knew.”

“Sure. Does it matter?”

Leo had missed his voice in those silent minutes.

I’m fucking covered in my little brother’s fucking blood!

“I don’t think Remus has to tell anyone.”

Finn sighed, slumping in his seat. “Leo…”

“Morning, baby,” Leo whispered.

In the low orange light, Logan’s eyes were nearly hazel. The tiny oxygen tubes pulled when he turned his head; his nose crinkled, mouth turning down. “Quoi…?”

“How are you feeling?” Finn asked. “Hi, Lo baby, hi.”

“Le match…” Logan trailed off, frowning harder. “Noelle.”

“Thanks,” Leo murmured.

Finn just kissed him again. Three taps to his shoulder, three taps for Logan’s hand. Leo’s heart ached.

Logan took in a long breath, then let it out slow. He was still looking at Leo. “Did I throw up on her?” he asked in hazy French. “I think…I don’t remember. She was with me.”

“Does your stomach still hurt?”

“Non.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

Leo blew out a breath. “Fenrir Greyback?”

“What a fuck.”

“What a fuck,” he agreed. “He hit you. Too hard.”

“Kicked me.”

“Yeah,” Leo said quietly. “That, too. Your bruise was—you were bleeding inside. Your gear kept it under pressure until we took it off to check you out.”

“It was bad.”

Tears pressed at the back of Leo’s throat. He glanced at the ceiling to will them back, then nodded. “Yeah, pretty bad.”

Logan nodded. “Did we win?”

“He thinks you’re great.”

Leo managed a wet laugh. “Oh, yeah?”

“I made him a believer. Wasn’t hard.”

“Well, you can tell him I’m a big fan, too. He’s probably banging the door down right now.”

“You’re out for the playoffs, Lo.”

Logan’s exhale quavered. “I know.”

I’m so sorry. It wasn’t the time for apologies. Logan didn’t need them. Not from him, at least. Leo had a long list of people who owed Logan far more than an apology tonight.

“Thomas called the girls. And maman.”

Logan nodded. “Sorry I threw up on you.”

#lumosinlove

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