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skaixwrites · 6 days

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My 1st fiction about Quogan.

Location : Restaurant in Malibu

Accession : Zoey’s Birthday

Time : Shortly after Quogan wedding

TW: Miscarriage, Angst.. a lot of it.

The fairy lights cast a warm glow as the Pacific Coast Academy gang huddled around a table, celebrating Zoey's birthday. Years had passed since their boarding school days, but the bond remained unbreakable. Laughter echoed through the restaurant as they reminisced about old pranks and whispered secrets. Zoey, the ever-optimistic leader, raised a glass.

"Guys," she began, her voice filled with warmth, "these past few years haven't been the same without you all around. But here's to many more birthdays filled with laughter, friendship, and maybe a little less chaos this time."

A chorus of "cheers" erupted, punctuated by Chase's signature goofy grin. But amidst the merriment, a flicker of discomfort crossed Quinn's face. Throughout the evening, she'd been wincing slightly, a subtle grimace etched on her features. Logan, ever attentive to his wife, couldn't help but notice. He brushed his hand against hers under the table, his concern written in his gaze. Quinn offered a weak smile, squeezing his hand back reassuringly.

Just as the birthday cake arrived, Zoey announced, "Excuse me, ladies' room duty calls!" As she disappeared, Quinn's facade crumbled. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she bolted towards the restroom, a hand clamped firmly over her stomach.

Moments later, a strangled cry pierced the jovial atmosphere. Laughter died down, replaced by a tense silence. Logan's heart lurched. He knew that sound. It was Quinn's voice, laced with a raw, primal fear.

Unable to contain the growing panic, Logan turned to Zoey. "Hey, did Quinn get in okay? I haven't heard her come out."

Zoey's brow furrowed. "No, I thought she might've needed some more time. I'll go check on her."

The walk to the bathroom felt like an eternity. As Zoey reached for the handle, Logan followed close behind, his unease gnawing at him. Pushing open the door, both of them froze. The once pristine bathroom floor was marred by a spreading crimson stain. And slumped beside the stall, her face contorted in pain and tears streaming down her cheeks, was Quinn.

"Quinn!" Zoey cried, rushing to her side. Kneeling beside her, she gently cradled Quinn's head in her lap. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Through choked sobs, Quinn managed to stammer out, "It's the baby...Logan…"

A wave of realization crashed over Zoey and Logan. This wasn't just illness; it was something far worse. The unspoken secret Quinn had held close, the reason for her occasional discomfort - it was all flooding back. Quinn was pregnant.

Panic turned to a fierce protectiveness in Zoey's heart. Turning to Logan, who stood rooted in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, she yelled, "Logan! Call an ambulance! Now!"

The ride to the hospital was a blur of flashing lights and a suffocating silence. Logan, numb with disbelief, held Quinn's hand tightly, his face etched with a mixture of terror and helplessness. Zoey sat by his side, a silent pillar of strength, her own heart heavy with sorrow.

Hours ticked by in the sterile waiting room. The doctors' words echoed in Logan's mind – a miscarriage. The baby they hadn't even announced, the future they hadn't dared to dream of, was gone. Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over unchecked. Zoey saw his silent heartbreak, the shattered dreams reflected in his tear-filled eyes. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We're here for you both, Logan," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "We'll get through this, together."

The sterile beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that dared to break the suffocating silence in the waiting room. Zoey and the rest of the gang exchanged worried glances; their faces etched with concern. Then, a door creaked open, and a nurse emerged, her gaze fixed on Logan.

"Mr. Reese?" she inquired softly. A jolt ran through Logan, pulling him out of the abyss of worry. He rose from his chair, his legs stiff and shaky.

"Yes, that's me," he replied, his voice strained.

The nurse led him down a sterile hallway, stopping in front of a door marked "Private."

"The doctor would like to speak with you about Mrs. Pensky's condition."

Taking a deep breath, Logan pushed open the door. Inside, the doctor, a kind-faced woman with gentle eyes, sat behind a desk, reviewing a chart. She looked up, a sympathetic smile gracing her lips.

"Mr. Reese, please have a seat."

As Logan sat down, the doctor started, her voice calm and professional.

"Mr. Reese, Quinn seems to have experience excessive blood loss due to miscarriage. It's a very unfortunate situation."

Logan felt a cold dread pool in his stomach. He nodded mutely, the medical jargon washing over him in a wave of white noise. All he could focus on was Quinn, his Quinn, and the tiny life they'd unknowingly planned for.

"She's stable now," the doctor continued. "But understandably, she's quite distraught. May I ask if you'd like to see her?"

Without hesitation, Logan stood up, his heart pounding a frantic tattoo against his ribs. He needed to be with Quinn, to hold her and chase away the storm clouds gathering in her eyes.

The room was bathed in a soft, sterile light. Quinn lay in the bed, her back turned towards the door. The sight of her fragile form, shrouded in white sheets, sent a pang of heartache through Logan. He walked towards the bed, his steps silent.

Hesitantly, he stretched out a hand and gently touched her shoulder. Quinn flinched at the contact, her shoulders tensing.

"Shh," Logan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling a chair closer.

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken grief. Finally, Quinn spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

"I lost our baby, Logan," she choked out, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "I couldn't give you a child."

The words ripped through Logan's heart, but he refused to let despair take hold. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch a silent promise of comfort.

"Hey, look at me," he urged, his voice firm yet gentle. "None of that matters. You hear me? We can try again, later. But right now, all I care about is you. You almost scared the living daylights out of me back there."

He forced a smile, the humour a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. But Quinn wouldn't be swayed. Tears streamed down her face as she continued, her words raw and filled with self-blame.

"But what about you, Logan?" she cried. "You deserve a family, a child..."

Logan cut her off, leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead. "I have a family," he whispered. "And you, Quinn Pensky, are the most important part of it. This doesn't change that. We'll get through this, together."

His words held a quiet strength, a promise that resonated in the sterile room. In that moment, amidst the wreckage of their dreams, a different kind of love bloomed – a love that transcended loss, a love that promised to rebuild, together. Night draped a heavy cloak over the hospital room, but sleep remained elusive. Logan and Quinn lay entwined, a silent symphony of grief playing out in the quiet space between them. Their bodies, drained from the emotional toll, yearned for rest, but their hearts were wide awake, grappling with the loss. Every so often, a shudder would rack Quinn's frame, a silent tear slipping down her cheek. Logan would tighten his hold then, a wordless reassurance that he was there, a constant presence in the storm.

As the first sliver of dawn painted the sky a pale grey, Logan stirred. His gaze fell on Quinn, her face peaceful in sleep, the worry lines etched from the previous night temporarily erased. He leaned down, brushing a stray strand of hair off her forehead, and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he murmured. "Time to wake up. Nurses will be coming in for their rounds soon."

Quinn stirred at his touch, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she seemed disoriented, the stark white walls of the room jolting her back to reality. But then, recognition dawned, and a flicker of pain crossed her features.

Logan squeezed her hand. "It's almost over," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "We'll be heading home soon."

He helped her sit up, his movements gentle and supportive. The ordeal of the previous night had left her weak, but a spark of determination flickered in her eyes. Together, they faced the morning, a silent testament to their resilience.

Stepping out of the room, Logan was greeted by a sight that warmed his heart. The PCA gang, sprawled out on chairs in the waiting room, their faces etched with concern and exhaustion. Michael, ever the jokester, sported a particularly impressive case of bedhead.

Logan had completely forgotten about them in the whirlwind of the past night. A surge of gratitude washed over him. "What are you all doing here?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Michael, the first to spring to his feet, grinned. "Do you think we'd leave you two hanging like this, Richie Rich? Nope. Never. We're going through this together."

His words, though laced with his signature goofiness, held a depth of sincerity that resonated with Logan. Tears welled up in his eyes, a sudden wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. Before he could succumb, the familiar warmth of a group hug engulfed him. The pain didn't disappear, but it felt a little less heavy, shared among the friends who had become his family.

In that moment, Logan knew he wasn't alone. He had Quinn by his side, his rock, and the unwavering support of their friends. Together, they would navigate the choppy waters of grief, their bond a beacon guiding them through the darkness. The gang's well-wishes lingered in the air as Logan returned to Quinn's room. The discharge process was a blur, filled with medical instructions and nervous anticipation. Logan absorbed the doctor's words about bleeding and pain, his heart a fierce protector around Quinn. Holding her hand, he led her slowly out of the sterile environment, back to the world outside.

He hesitated at the doorway. Facing the group again, with the raw vulnerability still clinging to them, felt daunting. Sensing his apprehension, Quinn squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Let's go home, Logan," she whispered.

Understanding dawned in his eyes. With a quick text to the gang, promising a visit soon, he ushered Quinn towards the car. The drive home was filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. Quinn leaned her head against the window, a melancholic expression etched on her face.

Logan, unable to bear the sight of her pain any longer, decided to break the silence. He reached out, gently squeezing her hand. "So," he began, his voice light, "what would my lady like for lunch?"

A faint smile flickered on Quinn's lips for the first time that day. "I'm not hungry, baby," she murmured. "I just want to go home and lie down. Is that okay?"

Logan's heart ached for her, but her simple request held a glimmer of hope. "Only if I'm with you," he replied, his voice filled with an unwavering tenderness.

He didn't push for conversation, content to simply be by her side. As they drove away, the city lights blurring into streaks of colour, a silent promise hung heavy in the air. They would rebuild, together, brick by emotional brick. The road ahead might be long and winding, but they wouldn't face it alone. They had each other, and that, for now, was all that mattered.

#zoey 101 #zoey 102 #quogan #quinn pensky #logan reese #nickelodeon #chase matthews #angst #fanfic #writing prompt #married life #miscarriage

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derrygirlstrash · 6 months

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—

“I got over it. I had to. Ghosts weren’t real, it was stupid. I was stupid.” He finished talking and let himself look at her again, expecting her to agree that it was stupid, because it was.

Instead, her voice was so soft and so understanding that he felt himself un-tense his shoulders slightly as she reassured him, “It’s not stupid for your fear to come back up. Things that happen when you’re a child, they stick with us sometimes…”

“… If you remember when you called me a spaz at the start of the school year.” She added and he felt himself tense in a different way entirely when she said that.

Logan felt his anxiety begin to give way to guilt, remembering how strongly she reacted to the nickname. He never understood why she got so pissed off at him for calling him a spaz when they often threw little jabs at each other. It was different, how angry she got. Which made sense if what he was feeling was what she was feeling… “Is… this… how you felt?” He asked, his voice quiet.

Her answer was simple.“… Sort of.” Almost so simple that it sounded as if she was saying a lot when she said so little. It felt bigger than ‘sort of’.

“I never said sorry for that.” He said after a pause, remembering how after she got her revenge he just threw the basketball and stormed off in the sundress, his anger mixing with the slight attraction he had only just realized he had for her after the scheme she pulled off.

He never… apologized. For making her upset enough to think of the scheme in the first place.

“I didn’t expect you to.” He knew she wasn’t trying to make him guilty when she said that. Which only made him feel guiltier for what he was only now realizing she must have felt. He wasn’t the type to apologize much, even when he went too far - which he did a lot - and most times he didn’t even think about saying sorry. She knew that enough to not expect him to apologize even when he should have.

Guilt prickled uncomfortably on the tips of his fingers as he remembered that the last time he cared so much about hurting someone was, well… the last time he hurt Quinn. He remembered that incident with the robots sometimes, a reminder not to go over the line with his enjoyment of pushing her buttons.

There was a line between winding her up and hurting her. He went over the line without even knowing he did.

—

Another chapter of my ‘Slow Burn / Practice Kissing Season 3 AU’ has finally gone live! I am excited for people to read it! Please do and comment if you like it, so I am incentivized to keep writing these long fucking chapters!

#zoey 101 #quinn pensky #logan reese #quinn x logan #quogan #my fic

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