2008-02-07: Total Eclipse Of The Heart


Logan_icon.gif Nathan_icon.gif Jack_icon.gif


Once upon a time I was falling in love

But now I'm only falling apart

There's nothing I can do

A total eclipse of the heart

Once upon a time there was light in my life

But now there's only love in the dark

Nothing I can say

A total eclipse of the heart.

Date It Happened: February 7th, 2008

Total Eclipse Of The Heart

Jack and Logan's bachelor pad.

It's so late it's early, but at this time of year, no sunlight is gonna start staining the sky for a good while yet. The wide window that looks out on a slice of Manhattan shows mostly nighttime sky, overcast and obscuring any trace of moon and stars. Logan is currently alone in his now shared apartment, and slowly coming to regret the decision to allow Jack to live in the second bedroom. Purely because in every reflective surface - the stainless steel and marble kitchen has plenty of them, the artful photographs hung on the white walls like muted mirrors, the wide window showing off his city bouncing an image back to him - he's not alone. And in his head? It's loud.

How did you get it? Nathan rages, pacing like an angry tiger along the wide window. Logan, in contrast, stands still as if enjoying the view, hands clasped behind his back, feet sinking a little into the luxurious shag rug that is thrown over the center of the expansive main room. Did you ask? No, you don't ask. What did you to her? In his imagination, Nathan's fist makes a solid thud as the side of it beats once against the window in unbridled anger. What did you do to Claire, Logan.

"Failing to see how this is any of your business," Logan says, quietly, face blank. "Or how it's any different. The only useful thing she gave you was what she could do. Claire is safe, if that's what you want to know."

With Noah.

"Not with Bennet."

Then no. She isn't.

Wrapped up in this argument, one Logan has to win if he's going to keep this phantom silent once and for all, he doesn't really heed the sounds of foot steps as someone comes home. He's neglected to change out of his clothes - they've been drycleaned for him by helpful Pinehearst employees, but his coat still has the tears of two stab wounds in the shoulder and in the back.
When Jack unlocks the door and lets himself into the pristine apartment, he immediately lets out a sigh of relief. Exhale. Deflate. At home now. Safe.

"Nate?" he calls out. "Who're you talkin' to? If you have a skirt in here, you're supposed to hang something on the doorkn—Shit!" At close range, the knife holes in Logan's coat are more visible. Jack's wearing the same jeans, sweater, and wool coat had on yesterday, true. His gear hasn't even been dry cleaned. On the other hand, he also didn't get himself stabbed. "Are you okay, man?" he asks his best friend. "What the hell happened to you?"

Nathan stops his tirade when the presence of another person interrupts him, he and his alter ego staring at each other through the cerebral barrier of a reflection, before simultaneously, they turn to look at their roommate. Nathan sinks into a different kind of anger, but blessedly, it's a quiet one, leaning his arm up against the window and watching with resignation. Logan suppresses a wince, turning to Jack as if to hide the slash in the back of his coat, jacket, and shirt beneath that.

It's hard for him, right now, to keep his utterly cool veneer of professionalism, healthy but unhappy, anger having worn him down and deepened the lines in his face. "What the hell's happened to the whole world," he says, and in a moment on misplaced paranoia, he squints across at the other man. "Where've you been?"

"I ran in to Trina," he replies ruefully. "Long story. I had to get her settled in and straighten out a few things. Took more time than I thought, mostly because I got puking drunk afterward." He scrubs a hand over his face and drags it back through his hair. Luckily, he has no need to maintain a tightly-controlled facade. Chances of his success would be poor, anyway. He's exhausted, his nose hurts, he doesn't feel good, and it all shows.

When he fumbles out one of his injectors, he stares at it for several very long seconds. When he finally does push up his sleeve and dose himself, he carefully avoids looking at the needle or his vein.

When his fix his taken effect, he seems far more physically tense, but also far more emotionally relaxed. "Now then. Who the fuck did this to you, man?"

Rough past 24 hours all around. Logan simply nods once at this news, unsure as to what it means to him in the long run just this second, and the information is set aside in favour of him moving towards the <s>magenta</s> couch pressed against the wall, sitting down with a tired slump as Jack sets about getting his fix. He rests a foot on the edge of the wood and glass coffee table, and tries to ignore the pacing only he can see in his periphery. Spreading his hand to observe it, Logan twists off his his wedding ring, fidgeting with it between his fingertips. "My wife," he answers. "She attacked me with a steak knife."

Jack unwittingly walks past Nathan's 'reflection in the window.' When he pauses with his hands tucked in at the small of his back, his body remains interposed between the two halves of his friend. "That," he states flatly. "Is a problem. What the hell do you want to do? It seems like everyone around here has gone crazy but us."

If only, Irishman.

"Whatever you decide, I've got your back," Jack assures, along with a familiar promise. "You point, I punch."

You have got to be kidding me.

Logan lets his gaze briefly flick past Jack towards where he can see a disbelieving Nathan staring through the looking glass at his once best friend. There's horror, yes, and anger, and that gaze switches right back to Logan, a look of warning. Or at least, that's the attempt. It's more pleading than he'd like it to be.

With a twist of a smile he manages to conceal rather well, he looks back up at Jack for a long moment. "I'm not sure what I have left these days," he starts. "My brother, my wife— I don't know what's happening anymore. I don't know who I'm meant to trust." There's a gentle clatter as he tosses the wedding ring onto the coffee table, the piece of jewelry sliding along the surface heavily. "Or what I'm meant to do about it anymore."

Smoothly, Jack slides down onto the couch next to his battered pal. "Don't sweat it," he murmurs, laying a hand on Logan's shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze. "How about I just take care of this one for you? After all you've done for me lately, I owe you one. This way, you won't have to worry about it at all."

Completely oblivious to Nathan's horror, Jack utters the words that will likely fix him on his dark, dangerous path. "I can kill her for you."

Logan's hand extends in kind to clasp Jack's shoulder in a sort of comradely gesture, their arms locked, fingers curled. It's not about, in the end, showing Nathan how bad and wicked Logan is. It's about showing Nathan the worst of those he cares about. His wife has changed, his brother on a path of god knows what, and Jack offering to kill the woman he'd promised to help protect not incredibly long ago. Even if Nathan crawled back into the world, is it a world worth having, in the end? "You're like a brother to me, Jack," Logan tells him. "I just want you to know that."

It's enough to seal a fate without even verbalising it, and he doesn't bother to sneak a glance back to Nathan, this time, who stands still and temporarily defeated. The heart of this body doesn't beat for him currently, but it doesn't stop the feeling like it's been wrenched out. He wouldn't make what counts as eye contact with Logan at this point anyway, hand seemingly pressed against the glass of the window as he looks at what he can see of Jack in disbelief and unrecognition.

Touched, Jack smiles a rare, genuine smile. "Thanks. Only brothers I ever had tried to kill me, so it's awful nice to hear you say that." He pauses and gives Logan's shoulder another squeeze. Straight men don't hug, really, but this is not gay in the least. Not even when he reaches up to give Logan's hand a squeeze, too. "Don't worry for a minute," he continues. "You and me, we're gonna make it out of this… no matter what has to happen. We're survivors."

One moment he's there. In the next blink, Nathan simply disappears from the window. Logan's hand squeezes Jack's shoulder, and in the distance, an emerging sun is starting to tint the black sky with skeins of blue. "Get some rest," he advises his "brother" gently, hand loosening from Jack's shoulder. "I'm going to Las Vegas tomorrow so I'll be out of town." There's a hint, there.

"Good idea," Jack agrees concisely. "I'll have everything taken care of by the time you get back." He grins lopsidedly and staggers back to his feet. "You should get some sleep, too," he calls over his shoulder on his way to the spare bedroom. "You're not nearly as pretty as usual."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License