InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "IMMA CHARGIN MAH LAZUR BEEMZ"

jreamer (jreamer) wrote in chicagothread,
@ 2008-02-12 19:34:00

Who:

jreamer &

epaz
What: Last secret revealed...or almost.
When: Night
Where: Logan's place

Logan:
Rehab was sought out after their momentous breakthrough, and his earth-shattering collapse of pride. The problem with rehab was that it took away his source of alleviation with promises of a new stable life, but it failed to provide him with an alternative. Empty promises. Always told him of the end product, gave him the what ifs, and took away his defenses but the weaknesses still remained. Instructions and help were absent from the process. Logan wouldn't have been able to overcome each meeting without Lainey by his side -- her promise rang true. She told him she wouldn't leave him this time, and she hadn't. Each and every of the mornings she left him for her other white picket-fence family life, Logan almost battled with himself so that he wouldn't succumb to pleading with her to stay. She had a life of her own before he came knocking intrusively. She got offended the last time he brought up the other fellow, but it all felt wrong that she cooked hot meals for this stranger, took care of his child, and greeted him when he got off of work while Logan came home to the reminder that if he still had his career intact, she wouldn't have to leave. Money didn't have to be an issue, and he could fulfill her dreams of happily-ever-after. For a man who once prided in carrying his team, family, and friends to solace, Logan had descended into someone who couldn't even care for himself at times. Pathetic regression. But when she did spend her leisure with him, he would never bring up his doubts and fears. He wouldn't dare waste their time together with such insecurities. As he approached her from behind, eyes were glued at her every fluid movement natural to her surroundings, and both arms, disabled one included, encircled around her petite waist to show her that he was still her strong hold despite his newfound fronting of weaknesses. (d)

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epaz
2008-02-13 03:57 am UTC (link)

Rehab. She had been there. Holding his hand. Listening. Nodding. Hugging. Patting his back. Watching his defenses be broken down. Watching him become more and more human. Watching him become more and more what she had always wanted him to be -- as vunerable as she was. She spent all her free time with him and spent the night more and more often. Yet, every morning she was up early - showered, dressed, fed, and out the door. Out the door on her way to her life that he was not a part of. The cakes and Marit. Anders and the house. Making him dinner. Cleaning their house. Every morning she rolled out of bed and looked at Logan laying so peacefully. So handsome. So strong in his weaknesses. It was becoming harder and harder to leave him.

She stood by the window, looking out at the street. The street where, mere days earlier, she had discovered him. Him and his vice. His secret. She spun around and kissed him on the lips. Stealing a kiss that was rightfully her's. She laughed more. She smiled more. She danced around the house. Radiant. Shining. ``Well, hello, lovely. What's this hug for?``

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jreamer
2008-02-13 04:18 pm UTC (link)

Charcoal optics glistened for the first time concealing the usual anguish that those eyes donned. Whenever Logan looked at her, in her direction, and into her gaze, all of the concurrent tribulations and miseries ceased to exist. Burdens were replaced by tranquility, dilemmas with solutions, and pain with pleasure -- she was his saving grace. Life's crude pranks took a grand toll on his once childlike face and for the first instance in a long while, his rugged mug, which was now rough around the edges, softened at the mere sight of her presence.

Every morning she left him, he would pretend to be asleep. Shut his eyes tightly so that it would be easier for him to let her go. He knew that she would return, but that tiny possibility that she wouldn't caused him to silently convulse to himself. She was so good to him that to let her know that he was cheating on her with Doubt behind her back was not an option. Besides farewells never fared well with him; perhaps her leaving him that first time without notice was for the better.

She was filling the shoes of the maternal spousal figure in another man’s household, and the idea alone nearly killed him. The man should have been him. Never did the philandering lifestyle of fine wining and dining women with agendas appealed to him as it did for the rest of his teammates. Because that conventional white-picket fence dream was never prominent in his life, Logan sought it more than football. After Lainey, football simply became a means to an end. So without Lainey, he no longer had purpose. That was to answer to the incessant why and what was he thinking before that pass. If only he hadn’t screwed up his career... if only he hadn’t thrown that Hail Mary pass… if only he hadn’t sacrificed his and her future for the team… if only they had married… if only he had known her doubts… if only blank. Like the never-ending throbbing in his shoulder, these detrimental thoughts drummed on militantly… redundantly… mind-numbingly… tenaciously. Rehab told him to be honest. The therapist told him to be true. Lainey told him to be genuine. These concerns, dreams, and desires were what stopped him from being all of the above. He would try and convince himself to let it go when she was around.

Words weren't needed to answer her question. When she turned around to confront him, he flashed a genuine grin revealing a set of pearly whites. His face inched closer to hers, and lips puckered to meet with hers briefly before pulling away. Clean, pure, and right. Or it used to be. Just wasn’t enough anymore. Those words waltzed at the tip of his tongue, almost painful that he wasn’t just spitting it out. The corners of his mouth tightened as he battled with his instincts once again. “Lainey, I don’t want you to go back. Don’t go back. Stay with me.” Instincts, 1 - Logan, 0.

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epaz
2008-02-14 04:57 am UTC (link)

Whenever she left him, the pain came. Whenever he brought up Anders, the pain multiplied. It was now, even now, in his shielded lashing out that she felt it come. Coming in waves of heat. Up her toes, her body, flushing her face. She looked away. Pulled back, walked to the window. She crossed her arms on her chest. Stay with him. He didn't want. Don't go. Stay. Stay. Stay. She looked at him, ``You know I have to go. I need this job, I need the money. I can't stay here.`` She needed the job. True. But, the reason why, well, he did not know. Other than mere survival. She needed the money because she had someone to support. Half the paycheck transferred into an account states away. Maybe the cakes would have taken her through if it was just her. It wasn't.

She put on her black jacket hoodie and picked up her purse to head for the door. ``Look, I love you and I'll be back tomorrow. Same time. You know. I do love you, Logan. You just know. You know I can't stay.`` Her eyes. Blue. Honest. Pleading. Her purse shed a precious piece of paper. A shiny photo. A smiling, bright, infant's face. The distinct features of a half asian - half caucasian child. The black hair. The dark eyes. Tiny hands balled into fists. A pink dress. A pink ribbon. Pink booties. Crawling on the wooden floor. It lay on the floor as Lainey moved out the door. ``I love you, Logan.`` She looked at her watch. Back at him. Then she saw it.

She wanted to be calm and rational. Inch over. Bend down carefully. Oops. Take it away. Gone. Stupid stupid stupid girl carrying around something like that. So silly. So haphazard. She could not stay calm, though. Instead, she rushed over to it. Far too fast. Reached down to snatch it up. Her eyes scared.

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jreamer
2008-02-14 05:49 am UTC (link)

Regardless of it being a rarity, every time Logan built up enough courage to voice his wishes, she managed to shoot them down without much consideration. It was as if she didn't take his protests all too seriously, and because he had backed down every time she showed him a bit of affection or instructed him to let it go, his words were wasted. I need the money . Reminder that he wasn't a real man. A sign he could no longer be her provider. I can't stay here. That was when the words came to him, and lots of them.

"You love me? Then don't you know me?" Logan didn't follow behind her, the heels of his feet rooted into the ground for he trusted his words would be carried far. He knew that these words with hurt her, that he could risk losing her, but he could no longer take it. He withstood the fact that she still hadn't given him an explanation as to why she left, he could handle the fact that she needed space and time, but this was something unbeatable. "What self-righteous fuck would be truly all right to witness the love of his life leave him every morning so that she could go play house with another man? And not just any other man -- a man that I can't ever be. A man that is more right for you than I am, and everyday I fear that you might find that out... that you might realize that while you take care of his child like your own." Logan paused to take a breath to present her with this bit. "Fuck Lainey, I'm scared that you might even know now, while you stay here with me." Turning around, Logan stared straight ahead at the walls that were starting to blur. Lifting the back of his hand to his face, he used his sleeve to wipe away the moisture that had gathered. Tone of voice raised as he tried to break through the lump that was forming at the back of his throat. "You wanted me to be human. Weak. Vulnerable. Honest. A man that tolerates any of this isn't being any of that. Me acting fine with all of this is as much of an act as my need to be the best. Fuck, I hate being this dependent, clingy sorry son of a bitch. Guys like that are WEAK. You say human, but they're leeches. I never wanted to bring you down. That's why I strived to be the best. For you. And then I find out those efforts actually drove you away?" As the question ended, his voice peaked a new high, but at this point, he didn't care. "I feel like everything I do is for you and still, it's not enough, so either I'm screwing it all up or it backfires."

The words were stampeding out of his mouth in that short period of time without much rest afraid that once he did, she would be gone. This was his sole opportunity, and if he missed it, it would be gone forever. Turning around, he knew the possibility that this in fact could push her away, and he would be left there alone, once again. So he pleaded. "Lainey, we can always make money. Fuck it, I'll whore myself out if I have to. If I have to play through the pain, I will. It's the pain that holds me back. I still got a lot of throws left in this baby." Teeth clamped together, and face contorted into a tortured cringe as he lifted his injured shoulder to show her. "I was just being weak. The pain of you leaving my side every morning is worse than any drug habit, any physical injury, and any career loss."

Words had never usually been Logan's preferred choice of expression. He believed in actions. Physical expression. That was when in his midst of ranting, he saw from the corner of his eye. A picture of an unknown child. It wasn't the one she cared for. Distinctly not. If Lainey hadn't moved so abruptly in her ways, he would have assumed she was caring for another child. But it was because of that swift movement that caused him to be suspicious. At first, he thought she had gotten hold of a childhood picture of him, but that was impossible -- not even he had that in his possession. That was when he realized. He knew. Her swift movement. Her anxious expression. Jaw dropped slightly but words were again nowhere to be found.

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epaz
2008-02-14 03:00 pm UTC (link)

She hated when he raised his voice. That shrill, screaming noise coming at her. Smashing against her back. Jamming into her ears. Tearing through her skin. She could feel the blood draining from her face. Her hand balling into a fist. Her feet itching to move closer towards him. Fingers ready to lay a slap on his cheek. She bit her lip until it turned white under the pressure. She spun on her heels and glared at him. Stared at him. Damn his mouth. His mouth that was running. Running. Running away again. It he was so scared of losing her, she thought he would have kept all his bullshit emotions to himself.

``Logan, I am not playing house.`` She yelped. ``I am not a seven year-old.`` She almost stamped her foot before she thought better of it. She put one hand on her waist. Stared at him as he ranted. When ever he spoke of Anders, she could feel the red hot anger rise up in her chest. It would spill out her mouth in the volcanic magma that it was in her soul. ``You have no idea! You have no idea what is right for me. You don't know Anders -- you don't know Marit. You use them as an excuse to tether me down. To try and make me stay here. Well, guess what, Logan, I am not staying here. Not this morning. Not the next. I have duties, responsibilities, a life outside of you. Outside of the four walls of your bedroom,`` she motioned heatedly with her hand. ``I used to think this place was sanctuary. That bed was freedom. That, here, I could truly exist.`` She shook her head. ``This place is a prison!``

When he spoke of his clingy dependence, she closed her eyes. ``You are not weak. You are not clingy. You are not. I just want you to be real and let me see you for all your faults. Let me love you for them.`` Her voice changed tones. Kind. ``The only way you bring me down is when you feel sorry for yourself, Logan. You do an awful lot of self-mourning. I never asked you to be the best for me. I never bought tickets to watch you play a part in your own life. I wanted to get on stage, drag you off, and live life with you.`` Everything he did was not enough. She shook her head. Wished he would just stop talking. Just stop. ``I did not ask for you to do all that. I didn't want picture perfect. I wanted you and I didn't even know you.``

When she watched him lift his arm, she could not help but feel it -- pity. Pity welling up. Crashing against her in waves. Sympathy. She could feel the pain. She shook her head. ``Logan, you don't understand. I need a steady income. And now, it's more than money, it's about Marit (the girl she is nanny to). If I live here with you, Logan, it will be like ... like ... I just can't.`` Why? Guilt. Guilt because she knew. She knew the truth. She knew the Secret. She would not be able to call or get called or send letters or recieve the photos. She would not be able to transfer money and sew clothes and shop for pretty things. Because he would be there.

It was then that she saw the photograph laying on the floor. Her heart stopped. Pounded. Exploded. She rushed to it, red face, clammy hands, shaking. She grabbed the photo off the ground. Pressed it face down against her heart. The pain and worry in her eyes so obvious and distinct. She looked down. Go. Go. Go. Run. Run, Lainey. Run. She knew she was going to cry. It was not time to tell. Just not. ``Goodbye, Logan,`` she choked on her own words as they fell out jumbled and confused. And she turned and went quickly, quickly, quickly towards the door.

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jreamer
2008-02-14 06:18 pm UTC (link)

Cocking a brow, Logan lowered his eyes to focus on her hand that was clenched into a fist once again, and momentarily awaited the much deserved slap into reality. More than fearing that raised fist was anticipation. It reminded him that she was all about action, too. That's what attracted him to her in the first place. She was just sharing with him, another aspect of her expressions... he would view the slight violent outbreak as a positive thing. It was just her way of doing things, and he loved even that. Logan had hated what he had become. A prison. It was words like these that he couldn't believe her when she told him to be honest. He was bringing her down. Perhaps the guilt trip was a subconscious method of her staying with him, but these concerns were more than just efforts to tether her down. They were genuine fears. Because the possibility of losing her was never a viable fear before, he was able to show her his true self without hesitation. The possibility was now more present than ever. Doubt followed, traced, and hovered over his every move. He had to be careful. He couldn't lose her again. The self-loathing process only came after she had left him, and he had lost everything. The self-loathing gave him a reason to wake up every morning... to prove himself wrong. The self-loathing made him vulnerable and emotional. The self-loathing was what kept him sane. The opposite of self-loathing was getting that ego going again. Raise himself up onto that pedestal. She said she wanted him to identify with his faults... to be real... and what if this self-mourning was his attempt at being vulnerable? Did he screw it up again? She didn't understand the constant battle of his trying to decipher what she truly wanted, what was right and wrong, All paradoxes. Enigmas. He wanted to defend his actions but words could no longer be misused. Words were too detrimental... too risky... she could hold him to them if they were the wrong ones used. So he bit his tongue till he tasted the irony [pun intended =)] of it all.

Everything with her used to be so easy, so natural, but then again, he hadn't a clue that everything was wrong. This is what they meant when opposites clashed -- their relationship was meant to be innately powerful, explosive, and toxic even.

Elusive time started to slow down as if he were experiencing the high trip of his life. Eyes widened, and every thought, emotion, and issue at hand disappeared. None of that mattered anymore. He noticed her frantic. Her posture stiffen. Her magnetic attraction to that picture. Her eagerness to leave that room. No doubt he sensed that familiar lump growing in her throat. Interrupting her words. It couldn't have been. She would have told him. All sensual qualities of his surroundings ceased to exist for that moment of realization. Time had passed for her to maybe get away. He couldn't let her get away. This time, he needed answers. He could hear the haunting bloodthirsty screams and dozens of feet of the other team's defense line stampeding towards him, and so he did the only thing he knew how in that situation: he ran for his life, for her, for the truth.

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epaz
2008-02-15 05:10 am UTC (link)

There was a moment of terrible, sustained silence. Where everything hung in the air. Hovering over them. She felt herself lift out of her skin. Watched herself move. The breathing. Heavy. The rushed rise and fall of her chest. The slow close of her eyes. Open. She had to get out of here. Had to. Before she ended up breaking, breaking down -- telling all. That would not do. Not at all. So her feet took her quickly out of the room.

It was moments later she realized he was on her trail. Chasing her. She tried to get out. Breaking into a full run. A desperate, painful run. She felt the tears, hot in her eyes, but swallowed hard and they went away. She felt her heart beating in her chest. She was so aware of the glossy photo in her hand. That beautiful face. She was such an idiot. So foolish. So stupid to carry it around with her. She was bound to screw up. She wanted to turn around and yell at him to leave her alone, go away, stay out of her life. Stay out. Stay out. Private. Secrets. Secret.

She knew he would not be able to handle this. She could not see him. She could not tell him. He could run for the truth but, nothing he could do would get it out of her. She pulled her jacket tight around her chest as she burst through the front door. She tripped. Stumbled. Her shoe came off. She left it. Running. Wild. ``Go away, Logan. Just go away. I'm leaving. I am fucking leaving. I am out of here. You can have your prison. I want my life. I want my freedom.`` She did not know what she was yelling at him. It made no sense. She did not mean it. ``Stay the hell out of my life. Just go away. Go away.`` Her face was red, her hair in her eyes. She shoved her key into her car. Turned it and climbed inside. ``Go away, Logan.``

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jreamer
2008-02-15 07:53 am UTC (link)

Shaking his head vehemently, Logan refused to acknowledge the words she had chosen to use just then. She brought up his prison again. He couldn't focus on that, no, there were more important issues at hand. Her adamant, almost violent resistance to him knocked the wind out of him causing Logan to cower for a minute to regain his balance. He had loved her so much that her attempts at trying to get away from him bore into his flesh.

No secrets, huh. All of his vulnerability, problems, and weaknesses were invested in her because she wanted him to do so. The two were so busy focusing on his faults, his secrets, that hers went completely overlooked. Eyes softened pleading that she left him in. In spite that he was still trying to swallow the initial shock of the newfound realization, instead of trying to reach the surface for air, he was more concentrated on getting the old Lainey back. This new one always suspected, and thought the worst of him.
She used to be able to share her ideas, despite how far-fetched and unconventional they were; she was willing, no, wanted to share her life and secrets with him. She now chose discomfort, lies, denial, distance, and secrets.

Voice was elevated once again, but this time, it was so that his words be heard through all of the commotion she was creating. "Lainey, we need to talk. You can't just leave me out here. Lainey, I deserve an explanation."

Hand pulled at the door handle as he saw frantically trying to escape from him as if he were some kind of monster. What happened to the days she looked to him to rescue her? With enough strength, he managed to pull the door open, only to hear Go away, Logan echo, as she yelled with such disdain, that he momentarily let go. That was when he lost his momentum, and the door closed shut. Face immediately fell from the disappointment of it all. Her fierce and bold rejection of him. Is that how bad it has become between them? That was when Logan snapped back into reality as her car's engine revved up his senses. Bare palm collided with her front windshield as he pounded rhythmically so that she wouldn't leave... that her attention would remain on him.

Why didn't she tell him? Why did she hide her from him? Didn't she know that he would have been by her side throughout it all? Didn't she know that every time he witnessed a mother lovingly tend to her child, he would wonder if he could ever come home to that instead of a dead empty prison that reminded him how much he fucked it all up?

"Lainey, I love you. Don't do this. You can't just leave now. Stay. Fuck, Lainey. Who is she? Who the hell is she?"

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epaz
2008-02-15 05:22 pm UTC (link)

She sank back in her seat. Closed her eyes tightly. Pushed the palms of her hands to her ears. Ignore. She tried to convince herself that he was a monster. That he did not deserve the truth or the baby. That he should not know the secret because it was not his to know. It was her's. The Secret was her's. He was prying. He was trying to steal her. Take her away. Claim his half. He was a monster. She pushed her palms to her ears till they ached underneath. Until her whole body shook. Until her eyes burnt from how tightly she had closed them.

She opened her eyes and dropped her hands. He pounded on her window. He did not deserve to know. He just wanted to steal ... steal ... steal ... claim what was not -- was -- is -- his. She wanted her brain to stop moving, churning. Thoughts, thoughts, falling like rain drops. As if the sky had heard her, it began to thunder. The gray clouds gathered above. Maybe if it would rain, he would melt. He would run inside. Seek shelter. She shook her head when he spoke to her. You don't need to talk to him, Lainey. You don't owe him an explanation. You don't have to tell him.

She shoved her keys in. Turned them. Listened to the motor chuckle and then start. She did not want him to be there. She had not wanted him to be in the 'home'. She had wanted the Secret to love her more. To love her only. Not her all-star dad. Not the man that played a game with Lainey's heart just like how he played football. Tossing her around. With his perfect, cool, complacent manner. He was bound to leave Lainey. For someone better. Prettier. More perfect. A better match. He was doomed to do it. Lainey would not let it happen. She had not wanted him to know. She still didn't now.

Don't do this. You can't just leave now. Stay. Who is she? Who is she? Who is she? Who is she? Who is she? Her insides screamed. She rolled down the window a crack and said, ``She is mine.``

And drove away.

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