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).