you don't deserve a son, but he deserves a father

Today, Logan was heading to the Manta Carlos countryside, to be introduced to the Grahams. His father's side of the family, who he'd never known. Anything that could connect back to what had really happened to his mom needed to be buried, after all, and that meant he'd been deprived of this. People he was told were much warmer, that might feel something aside from disgust for him.

He wanted to say he was past dangerous hope, but he wasn't. Not old enough for that bitterness to set in, not to the extent that he wouldn't get childishly giddy over this. The possibility of some secret, perfect relatives that didn't hate him-- like he was in a Disney princess movie with an extra shady twist-- Lord, he was weak against that daydream. Logan was only seventeen, extremely hopeful, and desperate for affection he was entirely unfamiliar with.

Billy was next to him, driving them to the ranch in a truck. Logan had his window down, half peeking out. He'd barely ever been out here before, only for school field trips, so he was breathing in the clear air and looking at all the grazing animals curiously. When he wasn't taking in the sights and sunshine, he was smiling at his dad, because he was both excitable and very fond.

"I hope this is really okay..." he sighed. It was odd, when a mix of nervousness and eagerness made you nearly feel sick. "Just showing up without warning will probably be weird, but I'm too impatient for a longer process. Might as well get it over with. It's already been seventeen years, after all, I don't think I can wait again."

It was a different world, here. In more ways than one. The setting and the people. Logan shrunk into his seat when Billy turned off the road into one of the farms. This was it. This was it! Christ, he was going to have a panic attack. What if it all went horribly wrong, and his dad was wrong? It wasn't like The Butcher was a shining beacon of trustworthiness, but Logan trusted him pretty blindly anyway. Shit. This was insane.

Except, did he have anything to lose? From his very slouched, tucked into himself, half hearted hiding position, he peeked and examined the ranch, the house. Colorful, full, sentimental. He wondered how he'd come from such completely opposite families. It almost felt like a big joke. They all came out (so many), and the men seemed ready for danger. Logan swallowed and felt his racing pulse. When Billy got out to talk to them, he didn't want to watch, but he couldn't look away.

His approach was very direct and to the point. Logan raised his eyebrows, cringing. Surely, surely, no family as soft seeming as this one would accept--

They did, though. Not even a blink, a moment of hesitation, nothing. An older woman who was quickly confirmed to be Billy's mother-- and his grandmother, his grandmother-- immediately went to smother him with affection. Logan was still in shock, but he exhaled a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and uncurled his clenched fingers. He stared, quiet as a mouse. He was scared again, now. Billy belonged here. Did he?

He was a stranger, foreign, likely as unwanted as ever, because he just didn't fit right. Not in a family. He wished he could turn invisible, or be struck down by God right then, so he wouldn't have to do this. He did have something to lose, he realized. These people were too good for him. It was easy to never have the Delacroixs— they were cold and brittle. Not the Grahams! If they were torn from him, before he even had the chance to know them, he wasn't sure he would recover.

Billy with his mom was quite a sight. The friendliness on top of… seeing his dad interact with anyone aside from him and victims was jarring. Humanizing, even. That surreal fact alone made Logan know he couldn't escape. When addressed and called for, he froze for a second, then made himself open the truck door and step out into the open, sun on his pale skin.

His mouth was so dry. He couldn't speak, and nodded along quickly to what Billy said, rubbing his arm. His eyes flashed everywhere, a little frantic while his expression remained blank, then settled firmly on the ground. He felt like his insides were sweating, and blushed, when his dad told them to 'treat him right'. He loved his dad, who was too nice to him. He didn't have to do any of this, try to give Logan a family, but he was doing it anyway.

He could feel the stares on him. Shame burned in his chest, and he reddened further, shy, extremely shy. Then, something unexpected, bizarre, and illogical happened to him. He was hugged, by this woman, Billy's mother. His grandmother. Welcome home, she said, with utter sincerity in her voice. Logan froze up again, like he'd been stabbed with icicles in every part of his body. He trembled from head to toe, inside to outside.

Then, finally, he burst into tears, a sobbing mess of a child, and clung to his grandma for dear life, burying his face in her shoulder. "Graaaandmaaaa," he whined, voice wobbling, hiccuping. Before the dragging indoors could happen, Logan reached out blindly and grabbed for his dad, too, tugging him in so he could hug both of the family members who'd ever wanted him at the same time (even if Billy thought his crying was gross, he didn't care, it was happening).

It wasn't difficult to pick up on some of Billy's intentions here. Logan could read between the lines. Still, there was nothing he had to play up for it. As manipulative as he was, his reaction to this couldn't be more genuine. Instead of simply dipping his toes in the scary and enticing concept of family, he'd thrown himself in, and would either swim or drown.

Satisfied with the cuddles he was able to extort, Logan released Billy and grandma, wiping at his eyes before sticking out his tongue at his dad and bickering (which started with a 'I'll cut it out when you do') with him over the predicted remark. His dad, who slept with men, but said being homo was 'a lifestyle'. His dumbass gay dad. The utter moron. He loved him anyway, and was quick to offer his grandma a sheepishly apologetic smile. "We do this, it's okay, it doesn't bother me."

The familiarity of ridiculous little arguments left him relaxed enough to enter the house with only minimal stiffness in his limbs and movements. It was what he expected, maybe even more than that, and felt like a daydream. He continued to wonder if he belonged, and was careful not to take up too much space, arms hugged close and posture without flaw. The only way he resembled Billy was in the eyes and height. When the younger family members approached, he waved very, very shyly.

He nearly drooled at the scents in the air, waiting quietly to be fed and listening to his dad and grandma talk to each other, interested. He wasn't exactly in the loop with any of this, it was all new. Billy ran and, of course didn't tell his family, that he could've predicted. The fact that they'd missed him was a complete surprise. His dad had said they hated him, but that seemed like an exaggeration if not an outright lie. Loyalty to your family over gruesome acts and personality. Jesus. Was that how the Grahams were? The Delacroixs were the opposite, and if it hadn't been against their moral code, Logan was sure they wouldn't have kept him around.

When the food came out, he blushed and mumbled a 'thank you'. He wasn't humble with the portions he took, a little of everything, eager to try his family's cooking he'd heard such good things about. He had a well buttered muffin before digging right into a piece of chicken pie, cheeks staying warm with delight, even though he was staying quiet for now. Waiting his turn and retreating back into his overly polite state.

He nearly choked when he heard what Billy was saying, but managed to continue acting normal. Goodness, how was he going to keep up that act? Blame all the murders that were about to pop up on the new butcher, who happened to be Logan? It could work. He definitely didn't look like Billy, and his costume was eye catching. Bunny Butcher. Or maybe this was meant to be temporary, for a quick meal and for the hell of it alone. He didn't really know, but he wasn't about to question it, either. That was on his dad. Billy could mess up anything he wanted, as long as Logan could keep this. He hummed, and leaned against the man a bit.

And once again, as equally quick to manipulate and lie as Logan was, he didn't have to fake this. He looked at his other family members, eyes round and still a little watery, with hope. A beaten down child that hadn't given up on trying to trust yet. He squeezed his grandma's hand, glanced at Billy, and took a breath. "Well, firstly, thank you for the lovely meal and hospitality, I appreciate it. It's only fair to make myself less of a stranger in exchange." He tapped his cheek, thinking, fidgeting. "Um… I'm a pianist, been playing since I was five, and it's my future career ambition. I have recitals at the school sometimes. I lead several clubs at the Academy, too. Music, Choir, and Fashion. Fashion because--" he blushed again, "Well, I'm a model, for part time work."

He wanted to go over matters with his other 'family', get it over with now. "M-my mother and stepfather wouldn't like my being here, so could you keep it a secret?" He grimaced. "It's okay, though. They have their own kids, and won't miss me. I just don't want to get banned from visiting, or give them any more excuses to be jumpy and strict with me. They all see dad when they look at me, and my grandparents on that side of the family don't even speak to me."