alexander logan has poor taste (poortaste) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-06-21 21:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | tobias grey, zan logan |
Log: Apex & Echo
Who: Tobias Grey & Zan Logan
When: June 19th; morning
Where: Tobias’ basement cell
What: Zan didn’t sleep. He’s on edge, feels like shit, and Tobias wants to help.
Zan’s fingers punched in the key code without hesitation and he walked into the area that served as Tobias’ cell without actually knocking. Eyes took in the scene quickly, assessing potential threats, locating Tobias, and everything else that was so ingrained in the agent. The Logan twins were excellent at what they did. Their instincts and habits were never going to go away or dull. They had been doing it for too long. Tobias was in bed. Two containers were balanced in his other hand and Zan slid them onto the table without a sound, removing the lids to let the smell of eggs and bacon waft toward the sleeping man. Zan was silent as he moved, perhaps a little too silent as though a certain persona were too solidly in the forefront. The first real sound that he caused, other than the opening and closing of the door to the cell, was the sound of running water as Zan took some time to wash his hands, frowning at the grime under his fingernails. Tobias was in bed, but he wasn’t asleep. He had tried, in vain, to sleep for most of the night, but he’d been an insomniac for years (jokes about how he slept at night notwithstanding) and with everything that had happened... Instead he’d spent the night staring at the ceiling in his room, imagining a pit growing in his chest as time went on, everything he knew slowly sinking into it. It was terrible macabre. He would’ve chided himself, if he’d been in the mood. The night was spent tossing and turning and worrying, which was new and unpleasant, until, finally, he heard the door open, smelled the food, and knew that the agent had finally come to him. He didn’t move at the other man’s entrance, didn’t do anything to give any impression other than that he might’ve been sleeping, until he heard the water run, and slowly sat up in his bed. “Good morning to you, too,” he said softly, though he immediately regretted the tone. That wasn’t fair, and he knew it. He checked himself, and looked down at his knees. “Good morning, Alexander.” Zan shut off the water and gave no indication of having heard Tobias as he dried his hands on a towel. He turned, finally, and leaned just a little against the counter that housed the sink. "You didn't sleep," the agent observed. He didn't return Tobias' greeting. It wasn't a good morning and that miniscule, automatic lie stuck in his throat. Zan hadn't slept, either. Tobias didn’t miss the fact that his greeting had been all but ignored, didn’t miss the cold tone of the agent’s voice, and he swallowed as he shifted out of the bed, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his pajamas. “I’m willing to bet you didn’t sleep, yourself,” he said softly as he walked into the room -- before hesitating. He thought it was Zan. Was sure it was Zan. Had assumed it was, because it’d always been, with Nathaniel avoiding duty as much as possible, and rarely so generous as to bring food if he hadn’t asked for it. But the other twin’s challenge, his threat, had left him on edge. Tobias didn’t fear death, but Nathaniel had other plans that cut through him. “Your... your word?” he asked softly, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “Better safe than sorry, I imagine.” The subtle clench of Zan's jaw was the only indication the man gave as to his mood. He met Tobias' gaze and the agent's eyes might as well have been made of cold steel for all the warmth they held. "Macbeth," he said, flatly, and pushed off the counter to move between Tobias and the table. There were a pair of forks in his hand and one was tossed to clatter on the table near one of the containers before the other followed suit to rest against the second container. The third item that Zan had been balancing atop the containers when he'd walked in was a washable to-go mug of coffee. "Eat," he said, still standing at the table and busying himself with the mug. A couple drops had spilled in the transfer and Zan scowled, having to go back for a paper towel or napkin to clean it up. Apparently, the agent couldn't handle any sort of mess while in this mood. To his credit, Tobias met Zan’s stare head on, but he couldn’t help but flinch as the silverware crashed on the table, the tightness in the other man’s voice and manner doing little to put him at ease. “I’m not hungry,” he said softly, truthfully, as he walked to the table and sat down. He hesitated again, his mouth opening, but no words seemed to fit what he wanted to convey. Eventually, all he could manage was a soft, “I’m sorry.” "Don't apologize for things that you didn't do, Tobias," Zan snapped, tearing a paper towel viciously from the roll. He didn't move for a few seconds, wrestling himself back under control. He didn't want apologies. Not from Tobias. Hell, not even from Nate. He wanted them from SHIELD. He wanted someone to admit that it had been a bad idea to separate them. To admit that Zan hadn't been wrong in worrying, that he wasn't wrong for feeling validated. That was the guilt eating at the man. He felt validated that his twin had come back completely fucked up. Maybe someone else wouldn't see Nate that way--especially when compared to Zan--but the younger twin knew his brother too well. What someone might have passed off as a minor difference was a slap in the face. And it wouldn't have happened if he had been sent along with Nate. At least if the shit had hit the fan, the twins would have supported each other. When Zan returned to the table and wiped up the very minor spill, there was a tiny tremble in his hand. It would have been missed by anyone who wasn't used to watching him, anyone who didn't make a game out of memorizing the tiny bits and pieces that made up Alexander Logan. But Tobias was well practiced in just that game. “Al... Zan,” he said softly, reaching out to place his hand on the agent’s, after a moment of hesitation. “Stop it. Just... just look at me. Talk to me. Please.” He swallowed. “I want to help...” He just didn’t know how. He’d never been the supportive type, never cared enough, in most cases, and in the cases where he had... Well, Cricket’s problems were limited to losing pieces of Mouse Trap and Gwendolyn was somewhat more emotionally stable than the agent. He hadn’t needed to try, before, and now? Tobias swallowed, and looked down at the table. He was worried. He was afraid. That the agent was hurt, and that he could do nothing to fix it, and more than anything, that he might lose him in the process. Something inside of Zan snapped. His twin had been separated from him, incommunicado for the longest they'd ever gone that wasn't an immediate test, and had come back only to post on the fucking network that he was even fucking back. Had flippantly posted for the world to see, asking if Tobias was still fucking Zan. Had known his twin was coming over to talk because something was wrong and Zan was worried... and had been gone when Zan had gotten there. But this mass-murdering psychopath wanted to help him. By the time Zan's head cleared from that rather painful line of thinking, he had Tobias on the ground with a knee planted against the man's back and Zan was holding Tobias' arm back only just shy of the breaking point. And he couldn't seem to let go, couldn't seem to move. That escalated quickly. Tobias grunted as he tried to pull out of the agent’s grip and found it impossible. Zan was stronger, was better practiced in physical combat, and moreover had him in a position in which he was at a distinct disadvantage. He was stuck. “Zan,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as he felt his arm pulling. “Zan. Let me up. Let go of me. Zan!” A growl answered and for a moment, it almost seemed like the agent was going to take it that last inch and snap the bone. Instead, he released Tobias abruptly and stumbled backward--horrified. Fingers reached out to grab the table, to steady himself, and he only managed to knock the coffee over entirely to cause a much larger mess than he'd already fretted over. His claws were out but Zan's back hit a wall and he slid down against it. He was not calm. He was not okay. He might have been horrified a moment ago but that steeled look in his eyes returned and coupled with a baring of teeth. For that moment, the one thought that had crossed Tobias’ mind had been that he’d been wrong, that Nathaniel had gotten the safeword out of his brother, that he’d lost his mind and come to end it -- but he told himself that couldn’t be the case, and sure enough, the agent let go, backing away in horror until he’d fallen against the wall, teeth bared and eyes cold. “Zan...” he sighed, half-groaned as he propped himself up and rubbed his aching shoulder. “Zan. I’m going to come closer, nice and slow, with my hands where you can see them. All right?” He smiled gently -- number four, the smile he saved for explaining things to Cricket, small children, or startled animals -- and shifted an inch closer. “I shouldn’t have grabbed your hand without warning. That was stupid of me. I’m sorry.” Startled animals might have been an accurate description if it actually applied to predators. Zan had the makings of a predator and that was exactly what he was struggling with. He didn't have the feral instincts of his father. But, oh, he had the anger to back up the danger that he could be. "Stop apologizing," Zan spat, hands flexing beneath the claws like he was preparing to attack again. Tobias bit his lip. Fuck. “All right,” he said calmly, letting the fake smile fall. “All right, I won’t apologize. I just...” ‘want to help’ had started this mess, he needed something else. He swallowed, shifting a bit closer. “I care about you,” he said softly. “I know I’m... not known for my compassion, to say the least, but I do. I care and I... I’m worried. About you. About us. I... You’re upset. And I want to... make it better. I want to... to be there for you. Something is wrong and it’s... it’s hurt you and I...” Tobias swallowed, looked down. “And I love you too much not to try.” He took a slow, deep breath, and shifted closer, still. “Just... just put the claws away, please. Just talk to me. Let me... let me be there for you. Like you were for me, after the pool. Like you... Like you deserve.” The mask slipped, even with how much anger was there. It all overlayed the pain and Zan stared at Tobias in silence. The claws retracted without even a wince, the wounds healing immediately and the blood drying quickly on his knuckles. "What did you say?" he finally asked in a whisper, looking both dazed and exhausted. Disbelief, perhaps. He didn't get any sort of specific. Tobias swallowed again, wondered how long before he’d have done that enough to make his throat ache, and closed the distance between them, now that the claws were gone. It hadn’t been the threat of impalement or being disemboweled that kept him back, but he’d known that if Zan had struck him, the agent would have blamed himself, and only made things worse. “I said a lot of things,” he whispered once he was kneeling in front of the other man. “I said I wouldn’t apologize. And that... that you are obviously upset. And... that I love you.” He blinked, and hesitantly reached up to cup the side of his face. “I said I love you, Zan. You heard me. There is a, uh, typically expected response...” Zan flinched at the touch, still wound too tightly, but didn't pull away. He closed his eyes and finally turned his face away. "You're not supposed to love me, Tobias. I can't love you. I can't even apparently be a person without my brother around. I don't deserve shit." His words were quiet and the agent couldn't even muster the energy to keep the emotion out of his voice. Pain. His eyes opened and he looked at Tobias again. Lost. "What does it say about me that my twin, the other half of me, stands me up after the longest we've been separated? When did I become so worthless?" He wasn't one to cry. "You can't love me. I'm pathetic." “Zan, you’re talking to man who murdered his friends in a hissy fit because Daddy didn’t love him,” Tobias said, very softly. “I know a thing or two about being pathetic.” He shifted closer, slowly wrapping his arms around the other man. “And you’re not pathetic. It says nothing bad about you, that he did that,” and in his voice, under the soft, consoling words, was the rage and fury that he was known for. “It means you tried, that you care for him, and that he hurt you, that he...” He swallowed, turning his head to kiss Zan’s temple. “I can love you. And I do. And if I have to order you to shut up and accept that, I will.” Zan's body was still tense beneath the man's embrace, unable to release the tension that had finally come to a head last night. Zan's anxiety had been boiling just beneath the surface since the moment Nate had left on assignment. It had only gotten worse. He was exhausted, having no proper outlet for it all. He lifted a hand to rest it on the arm Tobias had circling around his front. Zan didn't really give a reply but a little of the tension left his shoulders. "I never wanted to have to use that fucking word," he said, softly, surprised at the vehemence in his own tone. "I still can't believe he--" Zan's fingers tightened on Tobias' arm. "Thank you, by the way. You didn't have to defend me. He made that choice." Zan's tone shifted as he spoke until he just sounded tired. It was part of why he'd been unable to sleep the night before; where had he gone wrong? They were still twins, they were still partners and knew each other better than anyone. Trusted each other more than anyone. Was that still true? Zan shuddered, nausea rolling up through him. “I know you didn’t,” Tobias whispered. “I know. And of course I had to defend you, don’t be an idiot. Just...” He sighed and held Zan tighter, almost afraid to let him go. “You sound tired. Exhausted. Let’s lie down.” They were both drained, but Tobias had no doubt the other man needed rest more than he did. He’d had one sleepless night; he wasn’t sure how many Zan had gone through, waiting for his brother to return only for him to come back wrong. Zan didn’t move, didn’t respond, for a few minutes. But he was breathing calmly, his hands didn’t itch, and he seemed to be thinking. His gaze slid to the table where his coffee was dripping onto the floor by that point. “I... should clean that up,” he said as he carefully moved to push himself up and extract himself from Tobias. “And your food will get cold.” Neither of them were hungry; Zan would have eaten out of habit. He really wasn’t very good at accepting help, even when recognizing how difficult it was for Tobias to even want to help or even care about others. But the man’s tone was still soft--and tired. He wasn’t putting on a brave show. That had to count for something, right? “I don’t give a rat’s ass about the food or the coffee,” Tobias said gently, letting Zan pull away even as he stood up between him and the table. “I’ll clean it up later. I couldn’t eat right now if I tried. And I...” He shook his head. “You need to rest.” He said firmly. “Just... just come with me. We’ll lie down. We’ll talk, if you want, or we won’t if you don’t, but you need to lie down. You need to stop. You’ve been going for so long, you can’t keep running like this.” It took several moments to decide but Zan finally nodded, giving in without words. He reached out, holding a hand out to Tobias. Zan knew the other man was right and couldn't help the pang of loss at knowing that he and Nate would have been having the same argument--usually with Zan being the voice of reason and trying to take just one more watch shift while his twin got some needed sleep. When Tobias' hand slid into his, Zan blinked rapidly as he quickly tried to shift gears in his mind. "I don't want to sleep," he whispered, knowing without question what his mind would have waiting for him. It was the only thing that kept him rooted to his place, silently begging for guidance. “You’ll have to, eventually,” Tobias pointed out softly as he led the agent over to his bed. “But not now, if you really don’t want. Just lie down. Rest. Focus on us and this and forget the rest, for now.” It wasn’t a permanent solution, not by a long shot, but calming down, relaxing, getting away from the pressure could help him the short run, until he was more settled, more stable, and in the end it was all Tobias could really do for him, limited as he was. "Will you just... sit?" Zan asked, wincing at how pathetic that sounded. But the idea of curling up with his head in Tobias' lap felt safe and somewhat of a relief. “If that’s what you want,” Tobias said softly, “Then... As you wish.” Zan smirked very, very faintly and shook his head. Once Tobias was settled, the agent slid onto the bed--shoes and all--and just laid his head in the man's lap. He was quiet. "I love you, too. God help us all," he murmured. Tobias chuckled softly, and ran his fingers through Zan’s hair as he looked down at him. It was so gentle, so domestic, it probably should’ve felt wrong. And yet... there he was. “I’m quite certain God wants as little to do with this as he can manage,” he replied. "I don't actually believe in God," Zan admitted, eyes closed at the attention. It was terribly domestic and Zan had rarely been in such a position--certainly the only times in his adult life had been been on some assignment and there was a certain persona he'd been portraying. Zan had never been religious; the idea had never sat well that the way they lived their lives would later be judged. Free will was an illusion in too many cases. Slowly, beneath Tobias' hand, Zan was relaxing. It wouldn't be a complete relaxation but he would get a short reprieve, at least. "Did Gwen like her birthday dinner?" “I like to think so,” Tobias replied. At least the agent seemed a bit more at ease. He’d have to be content with the small victories, he imagined. “I’m a pretty good cook, if I say so myself, and I know what she likes. It was nice. I’m...” he bit his lip, pondering. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. About that. That wasn’t fair.” Zan shifted so that he was on his back instead of his side and looked up at Tobias. "It's fine," he said. "Besides, the whole professional-agent act is going to wind up being tossed out the window if Nate keeps--" Zan cut off abruptly, eyes closing to regain the calm he'd lost in an instant. "It's fine. It was something that meant a lot to you and you thought I was being unhelpful." “Alexander...” Tobias sighed. “It’s... it’s going to be all right.” That was a lie, and not one of Toby’s most convincing ones, but he cleared his throat, continued. “I have a tendency to get what I want. I’ve no intention of letting that stop, now.” He smirked, stroking Zan’s cheek. “I’m a bit spoiled.” A frown. "What do you mean get what you want?" Too many things to reference and Zan wasn't sure which one Tobias meant. Tobias blinked. “You, obviously, in this instance,” he said, his brow furrowing. “I want you. I... I don’t want to lose you.” He cocked his head to the side, looking down at the agent and trying to interpret the frown. “What did you think I meant?” The frown didn't quite ease. "And what makes you think I'm going anywhere? I've got a choice in the matter, too, you know." “I know you do,” Tobias said immediately. “Of course you do, I know that. I just...” He hesitated. Telling Zan about his... discussion with Nathaniel seemed problematic. Better to be general, he imagined. “If people find out, they would try to separate us.” He said flatly. “You would lose your job, obviously. If Shay had her way, you’d probably be thrown in prison yourself. We would need to fight that, if they found out.” "There isn't any real legal recourse about it. I'd just get fired from SHIELD. Thrown out of the school. Thrown to the proverbial wolves. Made into a social pariah in all the super secret spy circles," Zan said, flippantly. Still, he was Zan Logan and putting pieces together was what he did. "So what did my brother say to you?" he asked, sounding far too calm suddenly. Tobias cleared his throat again. This wasn’t going to end well. “We don’t need to talk about him.” "We just were," Zan pointed out. But he groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. "Fuck." And, really, was anything else necessary to be said? “Can I get a mulligan?” Tobias sighed. “I didn’t... fuck.” It really did sum it up, accurately. Things had been going well, had been getting to somewhere calm, relaxing, and now... “It isn’t an issue. No matter what he said, I won’t let him get in the way. So long as you’ll have me, he isn’t taking you away from me.” "It's an issue," Zan muttered. He lifted his hand again as he pushed up with his other arm, dragging Tobias down by the back of his neck. It was a little awkward, as far as positioning goes for kissing, but the intent was there. "And one we aren't going to talk about." He released Tobias and sank back down into the comfortable position he'd been in, shifting onto his side again. "Just let me stay here for a bit. It was working." Not talking was, in many ways, Tobias’ specialty, and he smiled softly into the kiss, before sitting up again. “Alexander, if you think I’m going to kick you out of my bed, you’ve clearly not been paying attention...” he mumbled. Gwendolyn being otherwise occupied, Zan was top of the list, after all, and given the fact that the other man needed this, for the time being... It’d have been a tough call. “You can stay all day, if you want. You are guarding me, after all.” “I meant like this. You talk too much,” Zan grumbled, fingers coming up to rest on Tobias’ knee. He was calming down. He wasn’t calm and there was still a lot of rather shitty thoughts going through his head but at least he wasn’t on the verge of snapping again. Eventually, he’d be calm enough to drag Tobias down with him and they could both get some actual sleep--even just a couple hours’ worth. Tobias rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond. He could give him quiet, if he wanted quiet. It was the least he could do. And when the time came for them to lay down and sleep properly, he was more than happy to throw an arm around the other man, and hold him close. |