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To Cure the Inevitable
Summary: Roman is so tired of endangering himself and everyone around him everytime he changes. Logan promises to help cure him, an old agreement never straying far in his mind
Warnings: major character death, body horror, gore, injury, needle, injected euthanasia.
Prompt: Painful Transformation, requested by Nico on AO3
Ships: Logince QPR (Logan x Roman)
WC: 2303
“Logan if none of these work-”
“One of them has to.”
“Shut up and listen for a second.” Logan jerked his head up to meet Roman’s desperate gaze, his features softening as he saw the worry in his friend’s face. “I know how hard you're working and I love you so much for it but...if none of these work- Logan I can’t keep doing this.”
Logan knew. He knew how hard it was for Roman every month, saw it in the scars tracing his body and the guilty conscience he bore every time after. Months of repeating the same thing over and over again without coming close to what they wanted. Logan knew but he was still loath to hear it.
“If these don’t work I want to die.”
-----
“Logan.”
Logan jerked his head up to meet Roman’s desperate gaze, his features softening as he saw the worry in his friend’s face.
“Roman I- this is it.” Logan held up the syringe full of liquid, the smooth glass reflecting the full moon’s light shining through the window. The room was dim save for that; dim lighting didn’t make for accurate scientific endeavors but Roman hated the bright lights, especially when he- well, he cared more for his friends comfort than any rules he learned getting his degree. He supposed it was odd, going from working in a small research lab to making one of his own out in the middle of nowhere. An unassuming cabin with just enough homey touchy to assure no one would break in on the assumption it was abandoned. Enough furniture had been moved to it that it was a comfortable weekend stay to any who may wish it, fireplace stacked with wood and no perishables shoved into the cabinets for overnight stays. It was comfortable but he and Roman usually only came here once a month. Two days out of the month this was their home, though they usually stayed in the basement.
The basement that was also well stocked but with very different supplies. First aid kits lay on practically every surface with more advanced surgical supplies within easy reach anywhere you happened to stand in the room. Sterilized countertops were a;ways optimized to have something laid on them for examination and two big industrial sinks were set on either side of the room considering how messy the work often was down here. A dolly and cart sat nearby the steps to get any supplies Logan needed from upstairs to down in the basement and ample shelving space provided room for it all. The biggest installment however, was a rather large, iron and silver coated cage; Logan didn’t know if those metals really helped anything but when it came to this he wasn;t sure if “overprepared” was ever a word he’d use.
Roman sat cross legged in the middle, hair tousled messily from running his fingers through it all night from stress. His too large hospital gown pooled around and left him looking small and vulnerable, which was a far cry from his normally boisterous and extraverted self. He was only twenty-five but the lines on his face spoke a different story, wrinkles pulled far too many times from stress and pain and regret, bags sagging under heavy eyelids as he struggled to even look Logan in the eye. Par for the course when they were down here together, neither of them ever quite ready to address what they knew was coming whether they ever wanted it too or not.
Logan gripped the vile tightly, the needle covered for now as soft music played in the background. Everything was tuned to Roman as much as Logan could possibly make it. Soft disney instrumentals played to fill the tense air, lights turned dim so the brightness never hurt his eyes, hospital gown made by him and Logan themselves using softer but cheap materials so it was comfortable but didn't cost too much to fix or replace when it was torn to shreds. The clock was put in plain view for Roman to see since he often got time based anxiety when he was down here, which Logan could hardly blame him for. They had tried lining the cage comfortably with pillows and carpet and blankets a couple years back but it hadn’t gone over as well as they had hoped so they had spent a couple days extra at the cabin cleaning up the unexpected mess before agreeing that unfortunately, a bare cage worked best for their purpose.
“Logan.” Roman twisted his fingers together and looked up at him finally, face tight and eyes wide as they caught the time and the angle of the moon. “Can you...not the whole time obviously but...can I maybe hold your hand?”
Logan had always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check even through the most painful situations. Scientific research often had you making tough calls and difficult decisions that needed to be made fast with any guilt pushed to the background as you carried out what needed to be done. But hearing Roamn ask for such a simple thing, voice hesitant and quiet, his heart nearly cracked at the mere thought of denying him though they both knew how dangerous it had the potential to be.
“Roman, of course.” Immediately he was on his knees, vial stored safely in his pocket and reaching out with his now free hands to clutch at Roman’s desperately, squeezing every ounce of reassurance he had into the gesture as he smiled thinly. His chest grew tight at the realization that this really was all he could do, hold onto Roman pale, shaking hands through a cage while they both sat on the floor and waited. Both of them let the simple ambiance of soft violins wash over them as the minutes ticked away, their hearts beating rapidly through their hands.
“I said- I said goodbye today. Just in texts I- normal send off from talking about nothing. They don’t know that I might...I didn’t make it obvious.” Roman hung his head. “We don’t know if this one will be the cure right?”
Logan swallowed thickly, not daring to look up. “No, we don’t”
“If it doesn’t work...I don’t want to leave.”
“I know.” The last one hadn’t worked, and Logan was determined for this to be the most comfortable setting he could muster. He wouldn’t break, not yet, not while Roman still needed him. Over the past month he had hid his expenses from his friend, setting things up he knew Roman would enjoy. He could tell Roman had an idea it was his “just in case” plans and played along accordingly. Logan didn’t have the heart- no, the courage to tell him he had known it was the end a month ago. The last “cure” he had tried had failed to reverse anything like it was supposed to. Years of research carefully poured into a mix of perfect chemistry failing miserably and settling its weight on his heavy shoulders every time he had taken Roman to that restaurant he liked, or the park where they had first met, or the hill they had first danced on. All of the memories that brought joy and laughter to Roman’s face spoiled in Logan’s eyes every time the thought that he had failed him entered his mind.
He had successfully kept Roman in the dark however, knowing how hard Roman would take it. They had discussed this before, Roman knew on some level that this was coming, it was Logan’s job to tell him when. But...Roman had said his goodbyes. He had lived as best he could, he trusted Logan to know what was best. Even if Logan felt as if he was simply taking an old dog through the motions one last time, the thought made even worse with the fact that he had stolen enough euthanizer from a vets office to serve his purpose. But Roman was relatively happy, he was still hopeful, he still clung to Logan like a lifeline; so Logan couldn’t tell him there was no cure left. There was nothing at all but a syringe full of death that Logan would use when Roman had turned because it was easier to see the pain of a beast's eyes rather than the pain of the person he loved most.
He fell backwards suddenly as Roman shoved him away, face already twisted as his limbs began twitching. Logan forced himself not to look away- this was his punishment. He had to watch every second of this to burn it into his memory as petinance for what he had done, what he was going to do. He hoped it tortured his mind every second until he died and continued to do so while he burned in hell. He hoped Roman hated him for it, resented him and told him so in his dreams if he ever managed to sleep again. He watched wide-eyed and stiff as Roman curled into himself, a pained whine escaping through his mouth as his back spasmed and split, instantly soaking the gown he wore with thick, dark blood and splattering on the bottom of the cage. Twisting limbs slid on the slippery surface as joints popped and bones cracked under the force of his transformation, becoming longer and bent to accommodate for the hulking form finally shredding the gown as it flopped to the floor. His face was the worst, mouth open in a shrill scream that echoed in the soundproof basement as rows and rows of teeth shattered the pre existing ones and the jaw jutted forward to accommodate them all. Acid spilled from it, making the swelling tongue writhe in pain and temporarily cut off the scream, replacing it with a dull gurgling that had haunted Logan’s worst nightmares for years. His hair fell in clumps as his ears tore from their usual place to reposition themselves, becoming pointed and alert before folding back as his body shifted one final time to adjust itself to the beast it had become.
Roman’s new forn barely fit in the cage, twitching muscle pressed painfully into the bars as the skin worked desperately to knit itself back together, sticking to the bars in its haste and being torn away as he attempted to turn in the small space. Growling low the beast swiveled its massive head to look directly at Logan, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen as Logan slowly stood and wiped the annoying rivulets of water that ran down his face. He wasn’t crying, he needed to hold it together for Roman. Roman needed him right now, more than he ever had in the years after Logan had found out about this, in the years he had studied to be able to help him, in the months leading up to the final try. Roman needed him and Logan would be damned if he wasn’t there for him as he needed him to be.
Taking shaking steps forward he fumbled in his pocket for a second before grabbing the syringe and bringing it out. The beast looked warily at the needle as it was exposed, the glint from the moon flashing briefly in his eyes. Logan jerked his head up to meet Roman’s desperate gaze, his features softening as he saw the worry in his friend’s face. He took a steadying breath as he reached the cage, bringing his hand up slowly, both of their eyes locked onto Logan’s hand as he positioned it correctly on the plunger. With a quick movement the liquid disappeared from the glass, the caged beast jerking away as far as he could but only succeeding in distancing himself an inch or two. The empty syringe dropped to the floor at the same time Logan’s knees hit it with a resounding crack.
Logan jerked his head up to meet Roman’s desperate gaze, his features softening as he saw the worry in his friend’s face. He brought his hand up to lay on the bars of the cage, trying his best to smile in reassurance. Roman's eyes flashed once before they began to dull, muscles finally untensing as he slumped to the floor slowly. Watching as he closed his eyes Logan reached in carefully to take his deformed hand in his own, squeezing it gently despite the burrs that dug into his skin. He held it long after blood began to run from his much softer flesh, long after it grew cold in his palm and the blood dried and the fingers relaxed, long after the sun came up and went down again and enough time passed for whatever it was that plagued Roman’s body to leave once more leaving only a small, scarred form behind. A form that was far too cold and stiff to be Roman’s but one that Logan forced himself to accept that it was. His back hurt and his legs were numb while his stomach growled and his dry throat spasmed in unspoken sobs but he refused to move.
Moving meant he had control of his actions. And that meant he had had the choice of doing what he had done. He could have tried and convinced Roman to bear through the pain just a few months longer while he tried to find something else. But he hadn’t.
Logan jerked his head up to meet Roman’s desperate gaze, his expression set in death to haunt Logan with its misplaced hope and fear and trust. He hoped Roman had finally found peace even as he prayed he himself never would. The lights buzzed faintly as Logan looked at their hands still intertwined together as comfort for him or Roman he couldn’t remember.
This work is also available on AO3!
Logan jerked his head up to meet Roman’s desperate gaze, and let go.
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