(Untitled)

[runaway_logan]

Aaron was gone. Dead, most likely, rotting somewhere out there in the black, or wherever the hell his body had been dumped in the end. At least, Logan had always assumed that much. That had always been the implication anyway, and though he'd never asked for details or a flat out answer, he'd taken that assumption as truth

Comments

[blackhole_heart]

A job newly finished, cred in my pocket, I'm in a pretty decent mood until the doors roll back on the train car and none other than Logan fucking Echolls stomps on, looking 'bout ready to slaughter somebody. I go from annoyed, to guilty, to just plain wary in a span of five seconds. Quick enough that it's downright dizzying.

Jaw set, I jerk a nod at him. A silent, oh, hey, I knew you once, sort of greeting. A big part of me hates that it's come to that.

[runaway_logan]

Logan was so lost in his anger that he didn't even notice Neil. Not at first anyway. The nod went unseen, the box heavy in his pocket and his back straight and tense as he took a deep breath and tried to keep a clear head.

It wasn't until the train started to slow again that he saw the other boy, sneering slightly and promptly getting to his feet. He'd get off at the next stop and walk if he had to. He wasn't in the mood for Neil's shit. Not today, not now.

He was still too humiliated and hurt to even look at the other boy.

If someone was going to say something, it wouldn't be Logan.

[blackhole_heart]

Shit. Shit shit shit.

He doesn't notice me, not at first, but I notice the sneer, something painful and ashamed twisting in my gut. Goddammit, just leave him be. Leave it alone, un-fucking-mix yourself, it can be just that easy, I think... But I'm on my feet and weaving my way down the aisle against every last fucking ounce of better judgment I've got.

"Jesus Christ, Logan. Don't fuckin' run away from me." Again.

[runaway_logan]

Logan turned, holding the pole tightly still as he drew himself to his full height, looking down at Neil with nothing but anger in his eyes.

"Why?" he asked simply. "I am not having a good morning, Neil, and you are... the last person I want to see right now. Maybe you're over it, but I'm not, and I can promise you that today is not the day that's going to change. You know why? Because, I have my father's finger gift wrapped in my pocket, and my gun strapped to my hip. So... Go home, Neil. Go run off to your boyfriend and do yourself a favour by staying the fuck away from me."

[more_flexible]

There was nothing quite as unsightly as blaster scars along the hull. Jack had spent hours getting them off the Rose and was in the process of laying a coat of silica primer when he saw Logan walking up. About the time the kid stopped, Jack's boots hit the bay floor.

"Looking for me?" he asked, wearing a guarded smile...and a generous smear of filth across his cheek.

[runaway_logan]

Logan didn't even reply, he simply swung, his fist slamming into Jack's jaw so hard that his knuckles ached.

Maybe it wasn't Jack's fault, but in that moment it felt like it was, and Logan sneered as he pulled the box from his pocket and thrust it in the other man's face.

"You want to explain this to me?" he barked. "What the fuck is going on, Jack?"

[more_flexible]

Jack cupped his jaw and rubbed slowly, as if that could possibly take the pain away. When Logan asked, he shook his head to clear it and reached for the box.

"I don't know. Is this some sort of inner-system marriage proposal? Because I'm not really looking to get..."

He promptly went quiet as he looked inside.

[runaway_logan]

The anger that had been burning under the surface began to fade, and though he was still tense, Logan seemed more lost than angry as he folded his arms over his chest. Jack seemed just as surprised as he had been, though Logan was learning that sometimes Jack's looks could be more than a little deceiving.

"Say something," he demanded quietly. "Tell me it's a joke. Tell me it isn't his. That it isn't fresh. Just... say something."