A / N: How's your week going? Mine's kinda shit currently, but that's okay, I probably just need more sleep. Alright, Song for the Sleepless by Ollie MN. It's great, I love it, I hope you will too. Anybody else out there always buy cool coloring books but never use them? Much like my obsession with collecting journals and never writing in them. Enjoy the fourth chapter.

"Where were you?" Logan paused in the hallway, seeing his dad's at the table eating dinner. "Logan, what happened?"

"I just..I don't know, it's just a dumb kid at school." His dad, Matthew, rushed over to him.

"Is anything broken? How did you get home? Are you okay? What happened?" Logan just stared down at the ground, most of the bruises were under his sweater, but there was a cut on his cheek and he had a busted lip.

"I'm fine, dad, I think I just want to head off to bed if that's okay." He said and his dad smiled sadly, kissing his forehead. His other dad, Allen walked over to him.

"Sleep well, bud." His father smiled, also giving him a kiss on the forehead before Logan smiled back and nodded.

"Love you, dad, love you, dad." He said before he walked upstairs to take a shower.

He sat under the hot water for a long time, it stung at first, but after the bruises numbed a bit to the water pelting softly onto his skin and the dried blood washed off, it felt warm and inviting. Soon he couldn't think of getting out. He washed his hair and sat on the floor of the shower, running his fingers through his wet curls. Sometimes getting out of the shower took two hours, sometimes it took thirty minutes. There was too much to think about when the pitter patter of the water drowned out all the other noises, there were no distractions. He stayed under the water until he started to feel lightheaded from the steam and his thoughts were going foggy.

He eventually got out, putting on pajamas and walking to bed, tired as he had been since he woke up. He was hungry and irritated and wanted to yell at somebody for no reason, but he wouldn't do that, he was Logan, Logan didn't do things like that. So the red-headed boy crawled into his bed and turned off the lights, closing his eyes and pulling the covers over him. It was barely the middle of fall and he was shivering, it wasn't cold, it had been relatively warm all day, but he was frozen to the bone. Logan groaned and pulled his fingers through his hair, it was always the worst when he got cold, his body was never able to warm back up.

He rolled over and looked at his clock // // He sighed and got up. Shit, I need to eat something. He shook his head, but walked down to the kitchen anyway, I'd just look in the fridge and maybe get a carrot or something.

The refrigerator light was so welcoming, drawing him in like a moth to an open flame. How dare the food look so good, and yet, he could have none of it. Just take like, one bite of something, it's fine, you're fine, just eat something, you're hungry, you want it, just eat it. His hand shook as he left the thoughts wash over him, defenseless to stop them. He was starving hungry and soon he was reaching for the pasta that his dad's had made for dinner the night before, then chocolate, followed by cheese, and so many other things that he definitely wasn't allowed to eat. He knew he felt terrible later, but it felt so good now.

He tried to puke, just like every time, though, he couldn't, and after having no luck in heaving up the contents of his stomach, he left the bathroom to walk to his room, sliding down against the wall. He was full, but his head beat like a drum with how many thoughts were swarming him, a nest of bees that he'd disturbed. uglystupidfatbitchslutfatbitchdisgustingcan'tevencontrolyourselffatwhoredisgustingslutdon'tdeservetolivestupidfatstupiduglystupid. He let out a quiet sob in the silence of his room, he hated this. The worst was this, the nights when he couldn't control it, when everything hurt, when he did what his body wanted and his brain hated him for it. Logan pulled his legs up to his chest and his whole body seemed to shake as he sobbed. disgustinguglystupidfatbitchslutpitiful.

He tried to take breaths in but they weren't helping, he just had to wait it out.

When he finally got up, it was almost 2 AM, he was sore and still shaking, his legs hardly worked. His head hurt as he dragged himself to bed and curled himself up under the sheets where he slept harder than he had in a few weeks. Deep down he knew it was because he'd finally eaten, but later on he'd convince himself it was just the panic attack that made him tired enough to sleep.

Sun shone through the window, the sheer white curtain only partially blocked it. He felt weak, tired still, and sickeningly full. The house was quiet and his cat was curled up on his bed beside him. She purred softly and he smiled out of habit, picking her up and placing her down in his lap where she curled up. He didn't hear any sounds and it seemed about afternoon so he figured his dads had deemed him sick enough to stay home a day or two while the cuts scabbed over and the bruises faded. He got up with a small sigh and tugged his night shirt off, looking in the mirror over the bruises and cuts. Scars lined his arms and hips but the bruises along his ribs, on his torso, and on his left hip were all a bit more recent. He bit his lip and sucked his stomach in, he could count all of his ribs if he wanted, but he didn't want to, he knew how many there were, 24. 12 on each side and 206 bones in his body, all of which he wanted shown like museum display artifacts on his rack of a body. He was just an empty armoire, no clothes or trinkets inside, only framework. But that was unhealthy thinking.

The red-head walked downstairs after tugging on an oversized black cable-knit sweater and sweatpants to wear for the day. When he walked downstairs, he found a note on the kitchen counter.

Hey Lo,

I figured you should probably stay home today

get some rest, watch some tv if you want,

Tyler said he'd drop off any notes you missed

so he'll probably be over in a bit to say hi

there's some tea on the kettle if you want it

I hope you have a good day,

-Love Dad

Logan smiled and folded it up, his dad was really sweet. He walked over to the living room and decided it might be a good idea to watch some tv and take a nap, so that's what he did for a few hours. He got some homework done, read part of a book, and watched lots of netflix while he waited for the sore feeling aching throughout his body to leave.

Around 4 in the afternoon he heard the doorbell ring and got up to check it, figuring it was Ty coming to say hi and check on him and give him notes and various assignments to catch up on. What he wasn't expecting though, was Oliver standing in the doorway with a small, almost sad smile on his face.

"Hey." He said and Logan smiled.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. The bruise is looking a lot better." He said and Logan nodded.

"Thanks. Did you want to like, come inside or are you busy?"

"I've got around a half an hour before I have anything to do." He said.

"What's in a half an hour?"

"I've got a shift at work." He said and Logan nodded. "What have you been up to?"

"I've just been watching The Office and Say Yes to the Dress all day." He shrugged with a little guilty smile.

"Say Yes to the Dress? Really? I didn't take you for a fashion fan. I guess you have changed." He said with a chuckle and Logan rolled his eyes.

"It's just nice to see the bride so happy when she finds the right one."

"Alright, I can probably put up with The Office, but not that." He said and Logan nodded with a little giggle, walking over to the couch where he'd been sitting.

"Okay, come on then." He said, plopping down on one side where he had been curled up with his pillow.

"Which episode?"

"Season 5, episode 7." He said, pulling the blanket around himself as Oliver inhabited the other side of the couch.

"Cool." Oliver said, nodding casually. Logan smiled a little, starting it. He didn't expect Oliver to come over, but he wasn't mad about it, he was less alone now. Oliver had always made hanging out easy and he was so honest about everything, it was comforting. Logan never wondered if Oliver wanted to hang out with him, he knew if the dark haired boy wanted nothing to do with him, he wouldn't have anything to do with him. That's how it used to be anyways, back when he knew who Oliver was, but it seemed as though he hadn't changed, neither of them had. Maybe he was just acting the same though, maybe he was just as much a liar as Logan. LiarLiarLiar. He curled up tighter in his blanket and watched the TV.

"You never told me who it was." Oliver said, his eyes still on the screen.

"I'm not going to."

"I could have them taken care of, you'd never be bothered again."

"You wouldn't. And I don't want you to" He said. How was he supposed to tell Oliver that his best friend had been beating him up for the past year and a half?

"Yeah, I would, it's not a problem, I'll just rough them up a bi-"

"You wouldn't believe me anyways."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You just wouldn't." He said, shooting him a glare and Oliver sighed.

"Fine." He shook his head, going back to the show.

"How do you like the show?" Logan asked

"So you're still fluent in subject changing then." He said bluntly. "Lying too for that matter." Liarliarliar.

"How would you know? You haven't talked to me since we were 13." It came out harsher than Logan wanted.

"I'm trying to, if you wouldn't push everyone away for once-"

"I don't-"

"Yeah, you do." Oliver looked at him with a snarl and then his expression softened when he saw the other boy's face, he looked like he was near tears.

"What are you even doing here? What, do you pity me or something?"

"No, Logan I-"

"Still have some kind of fucking hero complex, Oliver? You think you can fix everyone."

"I'm not trying to fix you."

"You don't even know me anymore." He said, his tone cold.

"I want to."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. You know why? Because nobody wants to know me! They just want to know who they think I am! I don't know who I am! how is everyone supposed to know me before I do?" He was crying and he hated it.

"Logan.."

"Don't-..don't do that..I just..just go- leave me alone." He said coldly.

"Do you really want me to go?" Oliver asked and Logan took in a shaky breath.

"Yeah." Liar.

"I'll see you later then." He said, getting up and walking out. "Call me if you need me."

Logan pulled his legs up to his chest and cried. There was nothing else to do. He'd missed Oliver, he couldn't even remember what'd happened to break them up originally, but he missed him then and now. Oliver was easy to talk to, he'd already broken down all of Logan's walls, He'd been there for panic attacks and conversations over the phone late at night during break downs, Logan had been there for Oliver's father going to rehab, Oliver had been there for Logan when he started therapy, he wasn't there when he stopped going, though. He knew him down to the last detail and 2 and a half years had barely changed them, they still had too much between them to be torn apart so soon.

Oliver was the only person Logan couldn't lie to, he knew Logan too well to take for truth his bullshit. I've done that, but it was just a fact of life, Oliver knew Logan better than anyone else, and Logan couldn't change it no matter how much he wished he could.