(Untitled)
I'm sitting in the sand.
I don't know how long I've been here.
I didn't run away, this time. We went home, after the fired died down, a small, wooden box of ashes held in Tom's hands. We had dinner. We sat in heavy, aching silence in the living room, Mike's absence hanging thick and suffocating between us. This home that had been warm and happy ( Read more... )
I don't know how long I've been here.
I didn't run away, this time. We went home, after the fired died down, a small, wooden box of ashes held in Tom's hands. We had dinner. We sat in heavy, aching silence in the living room, Mike's absence hanging thick and suffocating between us. This home that had been warm and happy ( Read more... )
So he'd skipped it. For Neil's sake- and, well, his own.
He'd spent all day telling himself that he'd go talk to Neil when the time was right, that he'd go find him and tell him he was sorry for his loss, that everything would be fine... Except the more he thought about it, the more reasons he found to put it off. He told himself it was for Neil's sake that he'd keep away. Then he told himself it would be weird to go find the other man when they didn't speak all that often anymore anyway... He piled on excuse after excuse in his mind, and then pushed them away with one simple thought.
He was being a selfish asshole.
He couldn't be sure Neil would want to see him, but even if the other man told him to go to hell, he told himself he'd go see him tomorrow anyway.
...It was by pure chance that he ran into him tonight instead.
Things were quiet at home. Logan wasn't sure how well Jack knew Mike, he only knew that Jack didn't handle death very well. So Logan had left the other man to his thoughts, taking Linus out for a late night walk. He had noticed the figure up ahead in the sand, but it wasn't until Linus went racing off towards it that Logan realized who it was.
He hung back for a moment, forever a coward when it came to dealing with the emotions of others- and then forced himself to slowly approach the man he'd once been married to.
In his mind he had a thousand things he knew he should say, but in the end all that came out was a simple, "Hi."
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But it cuts through, somehow, and I turn toward the voice, and then blink dumbly for a moment or two, like I don't recognize him. Or maybe that I just didn't expect him to be standing there.
"Hi," I echo, voice rusty with smoke and tears that dried up hours ago. Stepping a little of the way out of the water, I drop into a crouch and scratch behind Linus' ears, lips turning up faintly when he slobbers on my cheek.
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There were plenty of things Logan knew people said in these situations, but he couldn't bring himself to say any of them. All he could think about was how angry it had made him after his mother's death when people had come up to him spewing bullshit about how it got better, or how she was in a better place.
It had made him want to scream- and he didn't want Neil to feel that way.
So instead he did what he wished someone had done for him. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his last joint. It was a little sandy, maybe a bit more sparse than the others had been. It was the best he could do though, and he silently held it out in offering, along with his lighter.
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"Nobody's tried to get me drunk, yet," I mutter, joint bobbing between my lips, something almost like amusement tinging my voice. "Aren't I supposed to be fuckin' medicated by now?"
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It might have sounded like a joke, he might have even tried to make it sound like one, but in that moment he was dead serious. If Neil needed it, Logan would get it. For all Logan could be distant and closed off, when it came down to it, when it came to shit like this, there was nothing he wouldn't do. No matter how stupid it sounded.
He wanted to help, and since he didn't know how, he'd do whatever he could to try.
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I take another drag and hold it in, giving him a look that I hope lets him know that I appreciate the offer. It might've sounded like he was just fuckin' around, but I know him. I know he'd do it.
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Linus pawed lightly at Neil's leg, and Logan reached down to pick up a washed up bit of driftwood. He tossed it as far as he could, leaving the dog to chase after it.
He was silent and still for a while, not sure what else to say- but when he realized the right words were never going to come, he did the only thing he could think to do.
Wordlessly, he took hold of Neil's arm, tugging him closer and then embracing him. Pulling him in and just holding him for a moment.
It didn't matter that they'd become so distant, at least not to Logan, 'cause right then and there he felt just as he knew he always had when it came to Neil. ...He loved him. They were divorced, sure, but- He loved him. They were family still, no matter how much Logan had tried to deny it in the past.
He felt chocked up, and it was so stupid, because he wasn't supposed to be the one who was upset here- but he hurt. He hurt for Neil.
"I'm really... I'm really sorry," he said finally, his voice cracking even though he kept himself together. And he knew knew he wasn't just sorry for Neil's loss. He was sorry for so much more than just that.
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It's been years since we've been this close, for any reason at all, and I'm not ready for the crashing wave of deja vu when the smell of him washes over me.
I'm stiff in his arms for a moment, two, then I collapse against him, the joint dropping from my hand and my fingers curling tight in the back of his shirt.
"Everything's fucked," I whisper, the breath stuttering in my chest and my eyes burning.
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Logan knew. He'd lost Lilly, he'd lost his mother, and he knew. But telling someone that didn't make that day come any faster.
"I know," he said instead, rubbing Neil's back as he spoke. "I wish..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but the words hung there anyway, heavy in the air. I wish I could fix this.
He exhaled slowly and rested his forehead against the other man's for a moment. "Let me walk you home. Or- I dunno, to the compound. Did you eat? You should- I dunno, you should eat," he rambled, the words spilling out in that familiar Californian drawl. "Whatever you need right now."
He let go slowly, stepping back but still holding Neil's arm lightly, as if he was worried the other man might fall if he let go completely.
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"Home," I murmur, voice thick and rusty and sticking in the back of my throat, "I should go home. They're... They're waitin'. I said I wouldn't be gone long."
Things were so fuckin' bad between us, for so long, I'd forgotten that we got each other through more rough patches than I can count. For all the times that he was cruel, there were just as many times that he was so fuckin' sweet, I didn't know what to do with him. Four plus years ago, and I didn't know how to handle somebody who cared so much.
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He let go then, slipping his hands into his pockets and whistling for Linus to come.
The large golden retriever bounded through the waves, and Logan nodded as he started to walk, keeping a slow pace at Neil's side.
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"He's been ready to go, since I met him. He kept this journal, and there are letters and stuff. For the girls. I knew he was ready," I admit, voice thin and fragile, but my cheeks are stubbornly dry, "I mean, I could tell he... But not-- Not like this. I just... I don't fuckin' understand it."
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He was quiet for a long moment, and then cleared his throat.
"When... When my mom died, I think part of me knew she'd been building up to it. There were all these little things. The way she touched me, things she did and said. I didn't really notice until after, but, she'd been ready to go for a while. ...I wasn't ready though. It didn't feel real. It felt like some kind of nightmare."
He looked over at Neil, watching him and then looking away. "I think death is always harder for the people who get left behind. You've got all this pain, and Mike is- I'm sure he's peaceful wherever he is. I mean, shit, maybe he's with..."
He didn't say her name, he never said Ess' name these days. He just trailed off, knowing Neil would understand what he was trying to say.
"...Point is, you don't have to be okay with it. You don't have to understand. It's okay to be in agony for a while. You need to be- that's the first step or whatever. So let it hurt- and then later, maybe weeks from now, or months, just remind yourself that he'd want you to be happy. 'Cause I didn't know the guy, but I've gotta believe that's what he'd want."
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He just fuckin' let go.
"I... I know all that. I do, I just... I can't fuckin' think, let alone make sense of shit, and I don't really care if it's gonna get better, 'cause right now its all fucked."
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