Sunday Morning, in the clinic
When Logan wakes up, he's lying on a bed in the clinic. His head is pounding. Wow, he thinks. that must've been a hell of a party last night. He sits up slowly, and notices Rory sleeping nearby.
Slowly, the memories from the weekend return to him. Dinner with Rory's folks, which ended in violence before the food could be served - fortunately, it was the zombie-attack sort of violence, so he's maybe still got a shot with Rory. Although blowing up her stepdad's diner probably didn't help. Logan grins a little at the memory of the explosion.
Then there was yesterday. Getting breakfast at the yearbook thingy. And then - Logan frowns.
He'd thought he was his dad. Logan fumbles for the flask in his back pocket, and takes a long swig. Then another. He's downed half the flask by the time he screws the cap back on.
He pulls himself to his feet, determined to make his way home and take a very long, very hot shower. Or possibly just boil his skin off.
Slowly, the memories from the weekend return to him. Dinner with Rory's folks, which ended in violence before the food could be served - fortunately, it was the zombie-attack sort of violence, so he's maybe still got a shot with Rory. Although blowing up her stepdad's diner probably didn't help. Logan grins a little at the memory of the explosion.
Then there was yesterday. Getting breakfast at the yearbook thingy. And then - Logan frowns.
He'd thought he was his dad. Logan fumbles for the flask in his back pocket, and takes a long swig. Then another. He's downed half the flask by the time he screws the cap back on.
He pulls himself to his feet, determined to make his way home and take a very long, very hot shower. Or possibly just boil his skin off.