mess

[Logan Andrews]

I've really gone and done it now.
I have now officially violated the terms of our agreement and Arden can now officially head off to the ministry and tell them where I am and what I've done.
It's been a long time coming, really.
I should have seen it coming when I started heading out into crowds, just to know that I could snap and kill them all, tempting myself. I should have seen it coming when I started to visualise what I could do to people. I should have seen it coming when just thinking words like 'blood' or 'pain' sent a prickle of an itch all through me.
I should have left around then, gone off to find somewhere new with no people around so I could be a hermit and never hurt anyone again.
But I didn't.
No.

And well, maybe I did see it coming and that's why I stayed, because I wanted it, thirsted for it on some deep level which can't be wiped clean just by a few months in Azkaban.
Or maybe I didn't, because I don't remember ever being this shaken up afterwards before. My hands, which are slick and red and so coated in blood by this point that I can barely see the skin underneath, are shaking really quite violently by this point.
It set in on my way back here, the shaking and the sick unsteady feeling and I think in a minute I'm really going to need to sit down. But I have higher priorities at the moment. As in, covering my tracks.

I don't think there's any blood on the door, I covered my hand with a loose fold in my shirt and mercifully it was unlocked. So that won't give me away.
I don't think there's anything back at the 'scene of the crime' or whatever it could so be called. Some alley way in the muggle world that some woman was unlucky enough to wander down and chance upon me. Stupid, ignorant muggle woman. Stupid, dead, ignorant muggle woman lying in an alley with her throat slit.
Stupid, ignorant Logan's not doing very well with his abstaining.
...Oh do shut up. Let's not starting talking to ourself again.

Thank fuck Arden isn't home.
I don't think that she needs to know...I think I have it under control now. It was just a little murder, just a tiny inconsequential murder really, and I'm not going to hurt anyone else and I'm not going to hurt her...I hope not anyway.
And I think the blood lust is under control now...it's all gone and faded away now. Until the next time it grows unbearable...and then I might have to do it again just to quench the thirst.
I forgot people could bleed so much.

I wrap my bloody hand in my shirt again to turn the tap on so I won't leave any blood there either, quickly shoving both hands under the water to rinse the blood away.
So my clothes have absorbed a fair bit now...but I can change those. It doesn't matter. I just need to get it off my hands for the time being.
Fuck it all, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Why did she have to bleed so much?
It's been a while, I guess...I experimented a bit, in a 'how much will she bleed if I do this?' way and a 'how loud can she scream if I do this?'. Just a few little experiments to see what I could do and what was more satisfying. Unfortunately, it was all a lot messier than I usually am.
Hence why there's so much blood.
Or I'm imagining it...maybe there's more blood because I know I did wrong. Like that woman in Macbeth...scrubbing away at her hands, 'out damn spot!' or whatever it was. Fuck I don't remember and I don't care either, because I'm still avidly rinsing the blood off and it won't go away.
What a fucking mess.

[Arden Patricks]

I'm really getting sick of this.
I know I can't exactly expect him to just be a good little boy and stay put, but... I don't know. Couldn't he at least save hios wanderings for a reasonable hour? Or is it better for a fugitive to wander at night, when no one's really around to see him but if they do they're much more likely to notice?

I don't know, really. It's barely dawn and I'm not sure I can think straight but all I really know is that he wasn't here when I woke up at two in the morning and he still wasn't here at... I don't know, five or whatever time it was now, or whatever time it was then, and despite whatever time it was then I was annoyed and worried and not really thinking straight so I thought I would go for a walk. So now I am all of the above as well as tired and mildly cold, so therefore the annoyance is outruling worry and I think I'll just go back to sleep because this is all stupid anyway, and above all I don't think I'm thinking straight.

I am thinking straight enough, however, to glance into the bathroom on my way down the hall when I hear the water running. Oh, good, he's -
"Oh, god," I breathe, backing as far against the opposite side of the hallway as I can without even realizing I've done so.

[Logan Andrews]

Fuck.
I manage to think one clear word before it dissolves into a rush of incoherent profanity.
A normal person would either be asleep or out at this time...probably more often the first one. Who is conscious and wandering around their house at this time in the morning?
Ah, actually probably a fair few people, but I don't know...maybe she's trying to catch me out or something.

Fuck.
I manage to think it again, and surprisingly it helps me no more than the first time.
I reach slowly for the tap and turn it off, as if a sudden movement is going to make this all worse.
I don't see how it could possibly be worse though, because I'm standing here, stained all over with blood and I still haven't even got it properly off my hands yet, which still haven't stopped shaking properly, and she's caught me out.
No, this really could not get worse.

Fuck.

[Arden Patricks]

I think my brain's shorted out, because all I can seem to do right now is just shake my head, and it takes me a bit longer than it ought to to even be aware I'm doing that.
I also feel like I might be sick, but that's hardly something conscious, and neither is wrapping my arms around myself protectively while I back a bit further down the hallway.

You have to turn him in now, some helpful part of my head reminds me then, but I don't quite comprehend it yet. I'm slowly 'waking up' though, so to speak, and so it's only a few seconds later that I manage to close my eyes enough to get some of my thoughts in order so I can say them. "Is this what you've been doing every time you leave?"

[Logan Andrews]

I shake my head wordlessly, hastily attempting to dry my hands on my shirt.
I really don't want her to get the wrong idea. I don't want her to think I've been taking advantage of her...'trust' for the past however long and been doing this often. It's the first time, it really is.
And I wonder why my voice won't work either, so all I really can do is just shake my head to disagree.
I walk a few paces forward though, because I don't like her backing away from me because I'd never hurt her...never.
Except for the times I already have...but I haven't cursed or attacked her or anything since we were teenagers. I wouldn't hurt her now.
"I-...just the-...it-..."
Damnit.
So I recovered the power of speech at least, but not coherently. I know what I want to say...or at least I know what the general tone of what I want to say is...but I can't find the right words to put in the right order.

[Arden Patricks]

I shake my head in return when he does, denying his denial, or just trying to be in denial myself or I don't know what, backing up a little further when he steps closer. "Don't... don't touch me, don't come near me. What in the hell did you do?"
Whatever he did, I'm pretty sure it violates our agreement, and I have to turn him in now.
Ha. Like that'll ever happen.

[Logan Andrews]

"Ah-...the-..."
Fuck it all.
I pause, closing my eyes for a few seconds and briefly dipping my head as I try and form a sentence.
Somehow 'I tortured Rubalyn whatever her bloody name is now, got bored and went and killed some muggle instead' doesn't sound all that great.
"I-...ah-..."
Jesus Christ. I'm going to bang my head against the ball in a minute. I'm not even sure if this is all stemming from surprise that she's caught me out...probably a good half of it is surprise that I did it in the first place.
"There was a...some torture and a...a small murder...but..." it's alright, I've got it out of my system now?

[Arden Patricks]

"A SMALL MURDER?!" I... think. Or I thought that I just thought it, but realize a few seconds later that I've basically screamed it instead, not recognizing my own voice. But then I'm shaking so hard that the next thing I know I'm sitting on the ground with my forehead in my palms, just trying to get a grip.
It really doesn't help that I still feel half-asleep, because this all the feel of a really bad nightmare.
I knew that this would happen. I knew it. But at the same time I knew it wouldn't, because he was different, I could tell. He wasn't the Logan I knew, and honestly neither is this one because if he was then he'd be nonchalant about it all, not stumbling over his words and such.
So... what then? Yet another case of split identity?

[Logan Andrews]

I half take a step towards her, but quickly stop and lean back and away from her again.
I'm respecting her wishes of not touching her and not going near her...there. What a lovely humane thing of me to do.
I don't feel like I'm in a position to be talking right now though, so I remain really quite silent and fight back the urge to...I don't know...try and get her off the ground or something.

[Arden Patricks]

Okay... okay. now I'm calmer.
I look up at him after a moment, wondering vaguely if this qualifies as being in hysterics, and if so whether it's justified. Probably so, but I still hate the fact there's tears on my face.
"So... you tortured and murdered somebody," I manage, voice shaking just a little but maybe not noticeably. "Temporary lapse into your old self, or did you just get really bored?"

[Logan Andrews]

"They were different people..." I murmur quietly, as if this somehow makes it better because I managed to torture someone without killing them and then kill someone without torturing them.
It's also probably not the best time to mention I don't like the insinuation that I did it because I was bored, so I don't answer the question. I don't know the answer yet anyway.
"Look...just stop...that," I request under my breath after a moment, half-gesturing towards her because it's hard to try and talk to her if she's going to have hysterics, doubley so if I'm not allowed to go near her.

[Arden Patricks]

"Stop what?" I ask, angrily wiping off the tears in case that's what he means. But I'm not going to stop sitting here and I'm not going to stop... being upset about this, so... screw him then, if that's what he means.
I think what I hate most - it's a pretty close call, but possibly - is the fact that I'm already thinking, vaguely, about where we go from here. It shouldn't be a question, I should just turn him in, but... well, I never really expected I'd be able to go through with it. And somehow I never stopped to think what I'd do instead.
"And while I'm asking questions, do you even know you killed, who he or she was?" I ask, just to make myself feel sick, I guess, because I doubt he'll have much of an answer.

[Logan Andrews]

"That," I repeat, even though it's probably no clearer this time round than it was the first time, except I make another small frustrated gesture at her at about the same time she's wiping away the tears...so...that's what I mean.
"No," I answer reluctantly, in a tone that's bordering on petulant.
No I don't know who she was...just that I spent about ten minutes freaking out and wondering what the hell I was going to do about the fact that I just tortured Rubalyn, then effortlessly slid back into the sadistic frame of mind the second some unfortunate woman happened to wander down the alley way I was lurking in.

[Arden Patricks]

"Sorry but it's bloody involuntary," I mutter... kind of unnecessarily, but I think it's safe to say I'm slightly pissed at him right now. And I don't know what to say about the fact he doesn't know who he killed. Probably nothing. I wish he had answered why he did it though.
And I really, really wish I had the guts, spine, heart, or sense to turn him in now like I should.

[Logan Andrews]

I nod slightly, because actually...that does make a bit of sense. I can see why she might be a bit...annoyed.
"I guess I'm going back to Azkaban then," I state flatly after a moment.
I'm not sure if this is the case or not...because she really is stubbornly stupid about turning me in, but I did two things that were very wrong tonight and I violated our agreement and...we both know what she should do.

[Arden Patricks]

I bite my lip at that, hard, as if the little burst of pain will somehow wake me up into doing what I ought to. But really I just do it because I know I won't and it's the shame and the guilt and I have to bite my lip 'cause i deserve it.
"You should," I mutter quietly, just in case he doesn't get how much of an idiot I am.

[Logan Andrews]

I nod in agreement, because, yes I really should.
"Are you going to turn me in?"
I need a definite, concrete answer here, because if it's a 'yes' then I think I could get far enough away before she would have a chance to actually do it. If it's a 'no'...then I really don't know.

[Arden Patricks]

I shake my head, meaning I don't know. It may as well mean what it appears to, I suppose. If I haven't decided to yet, I probably won't. At least not this time.
"Is this likely to happen again?"

[Logan Andrews]

"I can't say for sure," I answer honestly, "But...I hope not."
As if what I want has anything to do with it, though. As if knowing I'm insane helps, as if wanting to be sane helps, as if I have any control.

[Arden Patricks]

I really hate that answer, honest as it sounds.
"And do you even know why you did it?" I ask, because I really need to know that. I'm definitely leaning toward my first guess - maybe, if my theory was right and the dementors made him sane, maybe it's just been too long.

[Logan Andrews]

"Because I'm insane," I answer patiently.
It feels a little strange to say it out loud like that, but I don't really care anymore.

[Arden Patricks]

"But you weren't," I argue half-heartedly. Is it really even possible, now that I think of it, to be 'cured' of insanity?

[Logan Andrews]

"I don't know Arden," I shrug, even though she hasn't really asked a question. It's more to save speculation over whether I am or was or wasn't insane or sane...because I really don't know.
I don't understand any of it and I'm suddenly very weary of that. And I'm also suddenly a lot more aware of the blood all of a sudden.
It seems strange to be conducting a conversation this way.

[Arden Patricks]

Yeah, I don't know either. I don't know anything.
I look away then, and realize when I do how much better it feels to not be looking at him. Not that I would probably like to look at, say, myself right now either, what with the shame.
This is not the same as letting a fugitive in to stay because he isn't crazy anymore and deserves not to be in that place. This is... practically being an accomplice to murder. Or at least condoning it.

[Logan Andrews]

Seeing as she's not said anything now, I head absently back towards the sink on autopilot. It's very distracting...I think my skin might stain red, even after I'm trying to rinse it off again.
Out damn spot.
Damn Macbeth.
It strikes me after a moment that I haven't actually apologised...but 'sorry' seems like such an inadequate word right now...I don't know. It seems pointless anyway.

[Arden Patricks]

When I happen to glance back again, I notice that he's back to washing his hands... and I realize that we've been talking all this time while he's covered in blood. There is something very wrong with that.
Well, yeah. It's someone else's blood; of course there's something wrong with that.
"You should... you should get out of here," I say after a moment.

[Logan Andrews]

I nod briefly, "Give me a second and I'll go."
I can't go wandering around outside like this, so it'll have to wait a second.
But the blood won't come off.

[Arden Patricks]

I nod, then immediately wonder if that's best after all... if maybe I should keep him around to keep an eye on him or something.
"Or maybe you should just go... away," I say after a moment, talking more to myself than him. "Or maybe you should just drop dead."
I swallow hard after that last one, noticing how much it hurt to even say... even though the thought, as usual, is also a relief.
Well, this was nice, these last few weeks. Good to know it was never really permanent though, just like I thought.

[Logan Andrews]

And I deserved that.
But that doesn't mean I necessarily wanted to hear it.
"Best for all concerned, I'm sure," I mutter, heading past her in the hall but then stopping when I realise I don't know what I'm doing.
I am leaving...but...I don't know. I'm just hesitating now, I guess, because I think that I should say something.

[Arden Patricks]

Yeah, definitely. I agree silently, leaning my head back against the wall and closing my eyes until I can swallow the lump in my throat.
"Logan?" I call once I have, not really sure how far away he is now, what with my eyes being closed. "I still love you."
And I don't know why the fuck I had to say that.