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Language:
English
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Published:
2020-03-03
Updated:
2020-06-15
Words:
1,134
Chapters:
2/?
Comments:
14
Kudos:
62
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4
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558

Water under the bridge

Notes:

Tw for,

Suicide
Misgendering
Self harm(?)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Logan Sanders wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been for a long time. His friends hated him, his family had stopped talking him after finding out he was gay and trans, and now he was done. He was so fucking done with everything and everyone.

At first the changes in his mentality were small, he would skip a meal, not finish a homework assignment on time, or not shower for a few days. Then they got more drastic. He wouldn’t get out of bed unless he absolutely had too, he would stand too long in a shower that was too hot, he wouldn’t eat for days on end.

Now he was done with it. He saw no logical reason to even be fucking alive anymore. If he had no one to be alive for and no meaning in the dismal abyss he was calling life then what was the point? He had no animals to take care of, no friends who would mourn him when he died, no dreams that picked him up when he was feeling down.

On January first, twenty twenty, Logan Sanders decided to kill himself. It wasn’t a spur of the moment “Oh I hate my life I’m going to take some pills, slit my wrists and lay in a bathtub.” no, Logan had been thinking about it for weeks. He knew what he was going to write in his note.

Dear mom, dad, Alex, and Sophia,

Sorry it came to this.

If you want to know, I jumped off the bridge in twenty first street, at five thirty am. The fall onto the ice and the cold water will break the majority of my bones, and if that doesn’t kill me, I will drown.

It rained last week and so the river is still flowing fairly fast and by the time you wake up and find this note I will most likely be at least a mile from the bridge.

I lied mom, I’m not trans. I’m your daughter, I always have been and I always will be.

Now, for my funeral, I would like blue flowers, and to be cremated (That is if they find my body).

I love you all,
Mary-Ann Sanders.

Logan didn’t belive a single fucking thing he was writing. He didn’t believe he wasn’t trans, and he didn’t think they would care to look for his body.

But that's water under the bridge now, he supposed.

The bridge wasn’t far. Only about a fifteen minute walk.

The early morning breeze chilled his bones through the light coat he was wearing. He didn;t realize he was at the bridge until the safety rail hit his waist.

The one that was meant to stop people from jumping.

Logan laughed. It was cold, dull, and harsh. The laugh of a madman.

He climbed over the rail with ease. And stood on the ledge.

He took a breath, and then another, and then another.

And he jumped. He fell and hit the water. The cold wrapped around him and pain engulfed his ribs and arms. He sunk and let all the air float to the surface.

He heard something jump into the water. A blunt object but seemingly large. He felt arms hook under his armpits, and felt legs kicking the water around him.

Someone was pulling him up. His head broke the water and soon he was hauled up onto a concrete slab, a service area, beneath the bridge.

Logan realized his eyes were closed, and didn’t do anything about it.

He could feel the person who hauled him up start CPR, pumping his heart and giving him mouth to mouth. He opened his mouth and coughed, his lungs stinging with river water.

He saw the person who had rescued him, he had a shock of purple hair, dripping wet onto his hoodie, which looked like it had been hand stitched.

“Oh god are you okay?” Were the first words out of the boys mouth.

Logan nodded weakly. The boy helped him sit up against a pillar.

“Uh, I’m Virgil, by the way,” the boy (Virgil) muttered.

“I’m Logan.”

Chapter 2

Summary:

TW for,
Anxiety,
Asthma?
Idk lemme know if I missed any!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Virgil Knight was taking an early morning on the day he found one Logan Sanders almost dead in the water.

Virgil, not knowing what else to do leaped into the water, the cold stung his face and hands, his jacket was heavy around him, he was suddenly thankful he remembered to drop his phone and keys before jumping down.

He grabbed Logan (who was sinking fairly quickly) by the collar and began to heave him to the maintenance slab beneath the bridge.

He was also glad that his swim team required them all to be trained in CPR. The boy coughed and struggled to sit up. Virgil propped him up against the pillar.

“I’m Virgil by the way,” Virgil muttered.

“I’m Logan,” the boy coughed.

Virgil looked around, trying to figure out if he could get them out from under the bridge without using the access bridge.

“Logan, can I call the police, to get you to a hospital and out from under here?” Virgil asked, still looking for an exit.

Logan shook his head, looking fearful. “Please no,” he rasped.

Virgil sighed. He knew there was a reason Logan wouldn’t want to go back, and if he were this desperate there was most certainly a reason for that.

“Okay, how old are you?” Virgil asked, trying to figure out if he could get arrested for bringing a minor home with him.

“19,” Logan said, still raspy.

“Are you still in school?”

Logan nodded. “I got held back for health issues.”

Logan didn’t specify what kind of health issues, which Virgil knew wasn’t his business, but that also meant he didn’t know if this kid needed an inhaler, or insulin, or a million and one other things Virgil didn’t have. (Well, Virgil did have an inhaler, but you're not supposed to go around sharing those things.)

Virgil nodded. He sat for a minute, trying to think of someone he could call to help him get out of this mess.

He tried not to panic as his thoughts started racing, he didn’t have Casper with him today, which made his anxiety worse.

He never brought his service dog on earthly morning runs because he needed Casper to be energized for the day, and even if he did there was no way he would have let the dog jump with him.

Virgil shook his head to try and break himself out of his spiral.

He then thought of someone who could help them.

He got up, and ow, his legs hurt, and made his way to the service phone.

He dialed a number, and when the groggy voice picked up, he asked his roommate if he had access to his kayak.

Notes:

What ship should I make this? Vote in the comments,
Anxciet
Analogical
Or Prinxiety?

Any guesses as to who the roommate is?

Notes:

Hey guys, I’ve been trying to decide what to do with story, I wrote it a few weeks ago and I’m not sure if I want to make it a series or what.

So comment if you wanna see more of this?