cursed

[Arden Patricks]

I really, really should get around to getting my job back. This is getting no less than pathetic, spending so much of my time just worrying and crying and obsessing. There's nothing I can do, so I need to just accept that and get back to how things were... more or less. Of course I couldn't just take off from my life for a couple of months and expect everything to be the same when I got back.

But, then again, some of the changes have been major ones.
My brother and my niece have been missing for weeks, presumably dead except for the fact that my best friend's ex-wife who's now in prison for murder informed me that they're fine, and that Fitzy is just being a deatheater again.

Which of course is another thing, the fact that there are deatheaters again. Not very many, and I think poorly organized, but still. It's hardly a good thing. I should talk to Shelby again in a little bit more detail about recreating the Order, because what I said is true - I don't have to be held back this time from helping. If Fitzy is a part of it again I don't think it's a big part, and I'm not too worried about him trying to kill me or anything. Ian and Maddie are now far away from this madness. And, of course, Logan, the number one reason I previously had for not doing anything, is now dead because I didn't visit him enough.

Best for all concerned, I'm sure, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, just as I always knew that it would when it finally happened. I suppose I would be a worse person if someone I saw as a brother had died and I didn't care. So it's okay to hut; I deserve it. Just like I possibly deserve the hurt I get for rejecting Riley, just in case he really means it and he does have feelings for me and therefore I'm hurting him as much as myself.

But that in particular is something that I try not to think about. Instead, I've been sporadically cleaning my house from top to bottom for the last two weeks. I start in one corner, get one third done and then move somewhere else, coming back to the first corner two days later. I am pretty sure I'm making progress, but for the moment the place is kind of a mess - not in the least because just this morning I brilliantly decided to sort through Travis's things I've still got, and that set off a whole lot of crying and overthinking and now I just want to get out. I don't care where I go, just as long as I get out.

So the soft knock at the door is either a curse or a blessing, when it comes. It very much depends on whose there and what they want. But I'm leaning toward something not good.

((Hm. Sorry about the whole uber-long summary of her life at the moment....))

[Logan Andrews]

Curiously enough, I can hear the blood rushing around my ears and my heart is in fact pounding somewhere in my throat. I don't think I'm all too familiar with panic.
I've spent a very long time meandering apathetically through life without really worrying about much at all and instead focusing on entertaining myself in my own sadistic way. But it's like I can actually feel each heady pulse of adrenalin laced blood as it rushes hard and furiously fast through me. I feel like I'm sick, like I've come down with the flu and am in the stage of recovery where everything is unsteady and shaky.

I also don't think that I've ever really needed to calm down before, but now it's running through my head like a mantra.
Just calm down, calm down, calm down...
If I keep repeating it and I don't miss a single beat then it'll be okay.

I've also never cared whether 'it'll be okay' before either, but now I know that I do care. I do very much care what happens, what happens to me, even. Because I'm never going back to that place. I'll do anything and go to any lengths at all to ensure that I never see Azkaban or feel the presence of a dementor again.
Which is actually sort of why I'm here.

Walking through muggle infested streets is not easy, especially with my wand burning a hole in my pocket, but I've kept my head down and walked single-mindedly to the only place that I can go to, because really, there only is one place I can go.
The flat is empty, completely hollowed out. Adalia and her bratty offspring have disappeared without a trace. I was sort of wondering. I assume Finley is with them, or with Madeline. It doesn't matter because they're not there.
But Arden's always there.

Always there apart from when she stopped coming to see me. I sort of remember half-thinking that it was a good thing, for her, because she didn't have to be there anymore but that odd thought is mostly overshadowed with selfish brooding that she left me without a vice, all on my own.

Which I suppose was a good thing too, because then things started to get a little hazy and then my thoughts started becoming very indistinct and sort of incoherent, like slurred drunken shouts inside my skull. And it was tiring because it wouldn't let me sleep and painful because sometimes it all hurt so much that I'd have to double over or hit those thick, unforgiving bars until the pain in my head sort of faded a little with the new pain in my hands.
Then there was that astonishing rush of clarity as everything snapped back into focus and for the first time since I was...very young, I can see with absolute perfect vision. There's no morally grey haze or blurry outlines around certain people anymore. I get it now.

Or at least I did.
Things have started to get a little bit fuzzy again being away from the dementors, but I still feel quite enlightened.

I suppose they've noticed my cell is empty by now. It's been about a week since I've gone and there's always someone walking past, so they must know by now. I wonder if there's panic about that, panic like I'm feeling because I don't want to go back. I wonder if they've got hold of people, or if they know that I don't have anyone to contact. I wonder if they do know where I am, if I'm being shadowed right now because they're hoping I'll lead them back to a gathering of death eaters or some such, like following a rat back to it's hole.
I whip my head round to stare hard behind me at this thought, just in case there are any aurors out there. I have to tell them that I know and am not impressed. Fear prickles at my spine involuntarily and I pick up the pace a little.

I'm nearly there. I don't even know how I know where Arden lives, just that somehow I do. Maybe it was some conversation long ago, with her or someone else. Or I made it my business to know somehow. I don't even recall because that insistent thud of my pulse in my ears is making it hard to really focus on anything at all apart from getting there because she's the only hope that I have and I need her to help me and once I am there then I'll be safe. For now.

But what if she won't help me?
I hesitate, even though I'm practically on the doorstep right now. What if somewhere along the line I went too far and abused her nature too much and she'll take one look at me and shut the door in my face? Or worse, turn me in?
But I have no where else to go.
I knock, far more lightly than I would have before, but now the sick feeling of dread has dimmed the panic and I'm too busy second-guessing myself.

[Arden Patricks]

At least... it's something, I think, pausing with my hand on the doorknob to lean my head against my arm. I'm not sure what I mean by that, entirely, because really I just need to get out, out in the nice cool air that will wash out my brain and let me be calm when I come back. Whoever the hell it is, I don't care - I won't invite them in, but will insist on going out. So in that case I had better grab my coat....

There's no second knock, in the meantime, and I wonder if maybe they left or if I just imagined it, but either way I'm going out there anyway, and I open the door and step out in one motion, keeping my eyes lowered 'til after I've locked it and then I look up -

And immediately start shaking, going pale, eyes widening while my mouth gapes and I can't breath... all the usual symptoms of complete and total shock. All the usual symptoms of going utterly crazy.

It's been a long time since I said hi to someone dead, and the shock of it this time has me flat against the wall, like I'm trying to lean as far away as possible... as if maybe I'm afraid of touching him accidentally.

Yes, I think that's it, actually. I don't like how close we still are, anyway, even if we're not, and so I slide past the doorknob and the door and everything, still keeping pinned to the wall, until I'm at the far end of the porch and I can sit down shakily on the railing, shaking my head. I would probably be close my eyes, but I'm afraid that if I dop he might be close again when I open them.

You're not real, you're not real....

"You're not real," I half-whisper. "I went back, and you were dead, and I'm really sorry but I know you can't be real." My voice rises a bit with the apology, so after I shut up I decide to focus on taking deep breaths and not shaking. Or looking up from the floor, but keeping my eyes on his feet. I think he must be an Inferi, come to get his revenge for the fact that I didn't go see him, and I don't care how illogical this is because he just can't be real.

[Logan Andrews]

I surprise myself with my own impatience. I don't have time for this, but I don't say or do anything but watch with a half-exasperated expression as she slides along the wall of the house and away from me.
I know she can be a bit odd like that, but really, is it necessary?

And then I remember that only a few seconds ago, my most pressing concern was that she shut the door in my face and suddenly I'm relieved and not at all exasperated. I'm so relieved in fact, that it's followed by a huge rush of affection. I've never been more glad to see anyone in my life. I feel like laughing or hugging her, or something ridiculous like that.

But then she speaks and this disappears as well. All in all, it's a very weird rapid shift in emotion that I'm not entirely familiar with. I think I should just settle on feeling one thing specifically and then that'll be good and everything will be okay.
I think I'm developing some sort of complex which involves making a decision and having to follow through with it or somehow everything will not turn out okay...but I'm not even sure what that means and why it matters unless it involves going back to Azkaban.

"Dead?" My own voice sounds a little strange, hoarse and croaky and sort of like it's grating against something rough and metallic in my throat. I haven't had to speak in a while. "Who said I was dead?"
Maybe that's a cover story. No one wants to admit that someone escaped from Azkaban unless they absolutely have to. Or maybe I'm just 'dead' as far as the ministry's concerned. Or maybe, I think with a very strong sense of longing that this is the truth, they really do think I'm dead and that someone somewhere cocked up royally and now they think I'm dead and I really, truly am free.

[Arden Patricks]

This is an awful strange thing for him to ask if he's some sort of zombie, and it's this combined with the deep breathing that finally calms me down a little bit even though I'm still shaking and so confused I feel feverish.

"I... I went back, when I got back... and I knew you probably would be," I say more to the ground than to him. "I mean, you kind of have to be, because that's the only option once you're in Azkaban." I'm gripping the wood of the rail very hard, I suddenly notice, but I'm not sure I want to let go because I might fall backward over it or something. "You... you can't be... anything other than dead." And so therefore I won't even let myself start to think of how I'd feel if he wasn't. Although I do think, maybe, I might be kind of pleased. But I won't start to think that, even though it seems more obvious each second that he isn't dead and that he's real and actually standing here.

[Logan Andrews]

I frown at that, just slightly and I'm not sure why. I think I might be a little bit offended that she thinks that my only option was to just be dead, just like that. Although I suppose that I thought that was my only option for a very long time.
I think it might also hurt a little bit that she seems so convinced and has probably already come to terms with it. It's good to see that at least someone cared that I'm 'dead', I think sarcastically.
But that doesn't really matter so there's no use in being petty about it.
That's something I haven't thought before.

"I...uh...I got out." I tell her reluctantly.
This is about the time where I expect her to make me go away somehow, or to contact the ministry like a normal person. If there was another way to explain it, then I might try that, but I can't think of one. So I'll just settle with being vague and hoping that the urgency suddenly sinks in and she'll stop gaping at me and we can stop having this conversation.

"So..." I continue, not sure what I'm going to say next but now I'm a little concerned that she looks about the way I feel right now and I think she might fall backwards off the porch in a minute.
"So," I start again, "I'm not dead and trying to...haunt you or something, so you don't have to do that," I gesture vaguely at her and how far away she's standing.
I feel very sane now, and sort of on top of this, which is helping with the control of the panic.

[Arden Patricks]

My head flies up at that, so I can stare at him again. Nobody just 'gets out' of Azkaban. Well, maybe for minor offenses they might be released, but not Logan Andrews. And nobody just strolls on out of there either, because they're trapped inside their own heads, made crazy by the dementors.

Unless they were already crazy, in which case the only option is to make them sane - my theory again, possibly proven. By a guy who isn't dead standing on my front porch. I laugh in a wa that might be called hysterical, and let go of the rail to put shaky hands to my forehead for a moment.

"You're not dead?" I repeat, perhaps unnecessarily... but it really does seem necessary, to me, to try and work this out and get it fixed in my head by way of hearing myself say it. "You're not dead, and not in Azkaban... Logan what in the hell are you doing here?"

I'm not sure why I say this, as although it's more incredulous than... angry, anything like that... it's still a little rude and would appear to imply that I'm not happy to see him. But I'll figure that out in a minute, whether I am.

[Logan Andrews]

"Because...you're all that I have."
It's only after these words leave my mouth that I realise how strange they sound. That's the sort of thing that someone who isn't me says to someone they actually give a shit about.
And I do - give a shit about her, I mean - but it just sounds really ridiculous and is spoken with more familiarity than I have a right to use.

"As in," I correct myself gratuitously, "I have nowhere else to go."
And I'm on the run because I can't ever go back to Azkaban.
No, that sounds just a little bit desperate and I don't want to let on quite how desperate and panicky I'm starting to feel again.

This is all swinging in roundabouts, from blind panic to irritation to affection and back and round again. I don't really know how I expected this to work out, but it's really not progressing as quickly or as smoothly as I would have liked.

[Arden Patricks]

Yes, I suppose that I am, and I nod at that understandingly. That was why I thought I'd killed him, after all, because I was all he had and then I went away. But, instead of dying, he escaped. Fancy that.

"And how in the hell did you get out of there?" I ask next, now looking up and down the street as I wonder vaguely whether it's a good idea to be out here on the porch with an escapee. All of my neighbors are muggles, of course, but still.

[Logan Andrews]

"I...just did." I know that's not particularly helpful or even all that coherent because my voice sounds sort of strange, like it's stuck in my throat on the way out.
I don't want to go into how I got out, because I'm not particularly proud of it.

The ministry are panicking because someone started a rumour that death eaters were regathering. I don't think it's true, with no dark lord, they'd just be a meandering mess and try and kill each other rather than get things done.
I didn't get a chance to tell anyone that, of course.

They hauled several people out of their cells for questioning about it, with two aurors and several dementors for an escort. I don't think that I can be held personally responsible for their stupidity on that count.
Someone started something and mass pandemonium ensued and I happened to take advantage of my newfound dementor resistant clarity.

"Can...?" I stop because I don't want to impose myself on her. "Arden, I can't-...I don't want to talk out here. In case."
And now she'll either let me in so I can stop feeling quite so edgy, or she won't and I'll have to leave and find somewhere else to go. But I don't know what I'll do then because I still don't have anywhere else.
That hasn't changed in the past few minutes.

[Arden Patricks]

I frown at that slightly, remembering now the whole fact that Death Eaters are starting to come back. And I'm not sure that I actually forgot, per se, that my best friend was one of them, but now of a sudden I remember and I'm just about to ask him about that when his question distracts me, and I immediately turn to unlock the door again because even when the times I pretty much hated him, it was still instinctive to try and keep him from getting caught. I might not care that Riyann's now in Azkaban, but I really wouldn't want Logan to go back.

I realize then that I'd probably be headed there with him if he did get caught again, here, with me helping him. But then I remember about the deatheaters again and that's more important than anything, so I pause my with my hand on the doorknob, not quite looking at him even though I know by now that's a good way to get lied to.

"Just... tell me that it has nothing to do with... what's going on," I say slowly. "Tell me that you didn't get help and aren't rejoining all your little friends in their new attempt at mayhem, and then I'll let you in."

[Logan Andrews]

"It has nothing to do with what's going on. I didn't get help and am not rejoining them. Ever." I answer slowly and monotonously for the most part, apart from the last two words which I can't help but put emphasis on.

I think that I've actually learnt my lesson where they're concerned. I'm going to behave, which is about as far as my plan stretches, because I don't want to ever go back there again and if staying away from death eaters is the only way to ensure it then that it exactly what I'll do.

[Arden Patricks]

I can't help but be brought up short by that, forgetting to do anything but just be surprised. Who the hell are you and what've you done with the psycho I knew and tried not to love?

"Okay," I say after a moment, shaking my head and opening the door, stepping back for him to go first. "Take your word for it then." Because I'm crazy trusting like that.

[Logan Andrews]

I step past her awkwardly and into the house, only glancing around briefly because that's what you do when you go somewhere for the first time, but I'm not really that interested.
I feel better the second I'm inside, a lot safer all of the sudden as if the whole time I was on the porch with her I was dangerously exposed and about to be suddenly attacked and hauled back to my cell.
I even manage to force a small, barely visible smile at her, which I suppose doesn't count for much.

[Arden Patricks]

And now you're even smiling. What the hell? I think but don't bother to say.
"So..." I say slowly, flicking on a light to reveal more clearly the mess that is my living room. "Um, are you all right?"
He looked half-dead in Azkaban, as do most people, but I don't know if that means there's something really wrong with him or what.

[Logan Andrews]

"I'm fine." I respond.
I don't bother with facial expressions this time. It's too much effort all the time.
I feel much better now I'm less exposed, sort of calmer. But now that I'm not completely wired up on dread and fear, I feel tired and weary instead. I guess there's just no winning.
But I have got out of Azkaban. I have been looking for alternative plans for the past week and finding none. So now I have finally reached my last resort, which really was the only one all along.

"Are you?" I ask in return, glancing briefly round the room again now the light's revealed just how much of a mess it is, because that it slightly more interesting.
I'm not sure if this conversation is really important, but then again, I'm not sure what is more important at the moment.

[Arden Patricks]

"Sure," I shrug, glancing around when he does and deciding that I may as well explain. "I've sort of been dismantling the place, that's all. Between thinking you were dead and worry about Fitzy and everything else going on, I've just been going stir-crazy since I got back."

And now I think I might just go a different kind of crazy, because there's a fugitive from Azkaban standing in my living room, who I recently thought was dead. Oh, and also don't I hate him, or at least dislike him? Should probably figure that out.

But I guess I really don't. I guess my dislike vanished... god only knows when, and now he's just my brother who was mildly psychotic for a while but possibly is better now.

[Logan Andrews]

"Ah." I say, then actually take in what she's said and say almost immediately afterwards. "Fitzy?"
I don't care what's happened to Fitzy, at all. Not even a little bit. I'm more interested because he's a death eater and it appears that there really is something going on there at the moment, but I want to know for sure.
I'm not sure what I'll do with the information, or even whether I'll be tempted.
It's easy to say that I won't go anywhere near them when I don't even really believe there's anything more than a few traitorous death eaters around, pretending they've been brainwashed or cursed into signing up in the first place.

[Arden Patricks]

"Yes...." I raise my eyebrows at him, wondering why he'd ask. "Reportedly, the idiot's gone and joined that band of ex-deatheaters roaming around now... and I guess that you're officially more noble than he is or something. Congratulations."

[Logan Andrews]

"So...there are?" I say slowly, sort of surprisedly pleased that she's told me exactly what I wanted to know without me having to ask. "There really are death eaters wandering around?"
Now I feel sort of sick, and her last comment doesn't really help despite it's insincerity. I suppose I'm going to have to really work out where I stand on that one.
But I also suppose that this couldn't have worked out better. If the ministry's going to have to admit to and focus on this new and more urgent threat, then maybe an Azkaban escapee will feature less prominently on the to-do list. At least if I stay off the radar.

[Arden Patricks]

I stare at him a moment, somehow surprised that he doesn't know that... partially because I already mentioned it in passing, but I guess not clearly enough that it was obvious like I feel it was.
"I would've thought... I don't know, people up there in particular would... realize, care. But you didn't know?"

[Logan Andrews]

"I thought it wasn't true." I shrug slightly, although not quite as casually as I would have liked.
I suppose I should have caught on when she said about getting help in escaping and mayhem, but it must have gone over my head without a solid confirmation to make me notice it.
"How are they-...? I mean, without the...Him."
I think I'm asking too many questions now, and it's not as if she'd know the answer anyway.

[Arden Patricks]

"I don't know," I shrug, sounding a little more snappish than I'd like because it's questions like this that made me sort through the silverware drawer twice in three days. "All I really know is that some of them are back, and my brother's disappeared, and Riley Pearson's sister has been murdered by his wife. Not a lot is happening yet, and I'm not sure most people realize...."
I shrug again, then frown. "And if you didn't know what's going on, why did you agree you'll not be joining it?"

[Logan Andrews]

I hold my hands up sort of apologetically as she responds, although I feel like I'd much rather snap back, because I need to know and I'm not she understands how much.
Although what she says doesn't sound that promising.
I can't snap back though, because I really need to keep this as affable as possible because as I've already established, I really have no where else to go.
"Ah." I say again, almost guiltily this time. I don't really know why I agreed, just that I really needed to get out of the open and it seemed the only way to do it, which isn't the best thing to admit. "Because I won't be, whether it's real yet or not."

[Arden Patricks]

I eye him for a moment, frowning slightly, then shrug and shake my head. "Well, that's something. Although maybe if you did at least I'd know what the hell is going on."
I don't really want him to, obviously, but the lack of knowledge is driving me half-mad. If the war is really starting up again, I'd kind of like to know.

[Logan Andrews]

I scowl for a moment at that, because I don't like that suggestion at all and the way she says it means I'm not sure whether it's sincere or not.
And then I don't want to reply because I'm too busy trying to iron out my expression into something more amiable again.

[Arden Patricks]

He doesn't reply, but I guess I don't blame him, so I take the opportunity to lean back against the wall and close my eyes, breathing deeply once to reorient myself.
"Have I mentioned that I love you like a brother so I'm glad that you're not dead?" I ask quietly, then shake my head and open my eyes. "Because... I think I ought to mention that."

[Logan Andrews]

There's something about the way she says that which upsets me on a very strange level and I just scowl even more.
I'm not even sure what or why it is, but I never want to hear her say anything like that ever again. Her or anyone, even though no one else would.
"Well, you shouldn't and you shouldn't be." I respond after a moment, but sharply all the same.
And I think I should find somewhere else to go and not come back here and I half take a step in the direction of the door before I stop as I remember that I've already tried to find somewhere else.
And then it sort of thuds into place that this is because the feeling is mutual and I don't want her to get caught for harbouring a fugitive. Then I feel even worse than before and more nauseous and sort of exasperated all at the same time.

[Arden Patricks]

And there's the Logan I know... at least I think it is.
"Yes, I'm aware of that, but it hasn't helped." I shrug slightly, looking at the floor and thus missing his movement to leave. "By rights I should turn you back in, because if anyone does deserve to be there it's probably you."
But only when you're being psychotic, which maybe you'd've been less of if I'd believed you back when you changed a little bit.

[Logan Andrews]

And that just makes me feel so much better.
I think my face must be completely contorted into some sort of heinous expression by now because the scowl is just becoming etched deeper and deeper with every passing second.
I don't trust myself to respond.
And if I did, what would I say anyway? How is anyone supposed to reply to that?