milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Logan. Bar. Coffee.

He went home recently. Didn't much like it, so he came back. Things are chaos at the Casablancas house and in Neptune in general, and normally Logan would be thrilled, but his playmate's too busy for him at the moment, and Veronica and Duncan are still super-lovey.

Miliways is a better place to be at the moment.

He's pleased to be here, and looking for a chat.

((OOC: On way to cafe for homeworking, but will be online most of the night.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"" He holds his right hand tightly in his left, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes seem unfocused, ""

""

Logan gapes. "How did you -"

He breaks off, blinks back tears that threaten to fall. God, he's such a girl lately, he thinks.

Behrooz doesn't look at him. ""

"I always said I'd do it, one day, swore I'd take care of him, get him out of my life. She did it, not me. Only she was strong enough to save me, and she's gone."

He doesn't look up. His eyes are on his hands, on the scar on his right palm.

"."

He's not really coherent enough to remember to translate it right now.

((OOC: Sleep, and we'll finish later. It's pretty draining, and there's no need to kill ourselves over it.))

Logan doesn't understand, and he reaches out, touches the scar. "What's that mean?" he asks quietly.

(Blood - skin - shattered bone in the dirt. He forgets her body - wrapped in plastic - right behind him. Too hot - surrounded by corpses -)

He usually makes an effort to hide the scar, but right now, he barely notices it. H-shaped, Hain, Traitor. His father didn't do that. There was no time.

(He's dead - through the heart - don't even remember it - put the gun down - handcuffs - "Mom, it was me, I did it, I killed him -")

Murmur, ""

"Not," Logan says harshly. "Not like him. Never like him."

"Killed him. Like he would have. One shot through the heart. He told me that."

"Not the same," Logan says, his voice flat. "He woudn't do that to himself. The guilt. They don't feel it."

Softly, after a moment, "There's still... blood... everywhere..."

Logan has no idea what to say or do. He frowns slightly, reaches out and touches Behrooz's shoulder lightly. "No. And yes."

He blinks a few times. Shifts. Finally looks up, and abruptly back down again.

"I..."

"I shouldn't - really, really shouldn't have..."

Logan shrugs. "Doesn't matter. It's done." His voice is hushed, solemn, as if he were speaking at a gravesite.

He rests his head in his hand, still realizing what he'd said.

Finally, in a more normal but still quiet voice, "Guess so."

Logan sighs with relief. Finally, he's back. He gives Behrooz a worrid frown. "You okay?" he asks. He'll sort through all of this later, but for now, it's not important.

He looks up again. Kind of.

"Yeah."

Beat.

"... are you?"

Logan gives him a fierce grin that doesn't have much humor in it. "Yeah. I'm not going to try jumping off any bridges any time soon."

Pause.

"At least, I don't think so. And that's about as good as it's gotten, lately."

After a moment, "... better to avoid it. When you have the choice."

"The bridges?" Logan asks drily. "Or the memories?"

"The dying," he says, a little bluntly.

Pause.

"And the other two."

Logan gives him a wry grin. "Excellent advice."

Beat.

"Before Miliways, I was on the bridge. After, I was still on the bridge, but fighting for my life. It's funny how things change, isn't it?"

Pause. Distantly, "Yeah. Funny."

Logan focuses on Behrooz again. "It was him or you, wasn't it?" he asks sharply. "One of you wasn't going to make it."

"No." His voice is edging colder. "Don't think that. It's not true."