fleeing

[Arden Patricks]

"I told you I can't," I say sharply, practically yelling and not knowing why. "I really wish I could... not the curses you just mentioned but I really wish I could do something. But I can't."
And I don't know why I'm mad at you for that, but somehow it's your fault. For being my friend or I don't know what, but I have to blame somebody other than me.

[Logan Andrews]

"And I told you to fucking do it!" I yell, "You know what? You know fucking what? You're not my friend, and you never have been. You're weak, and you're pathetic and I guess the only reason I have ever bothered with you is a mix between pity and a sense of loyalty because I have known you for so long and now I am telling you to fucking curse me! So do it!"
Liar, liar, liar, liar... My conscience is practically singing the word at me.

[Arden Patricks]

"So it's a fucking sign of friendship if I curse you?" I spit disbelievingly. "It's a sign that I am worthy in your twisted little world? Are you fucking off your rocker? I am weak, I'll give you that. I am weak and I'm pathetic and that's why I've stayed your friend for far too long. When I had the guts to stand up to you... when Will had to stop you from killing me... I nearly lost your friendship so then I just took it back. I was weak so you forgave me, and when I was strong you hurt me. Now you change your mind?"
There are sparks still flying intermittently from the end of my wand and I think I'm losing feeling in my fingers. I don't yell at him like this... I just don't. Until now.

[Logan Andrews]

"I do not want you to be worthy, I do not want you! Do you not understand? I don't care about you and I never have! Does that not make you want to hurt me? Curse me!" I roar.
What are you even trying to accomplish?
SHUT UP!

[Arden Patricks]

I give a short, disbelieving laugh. "Well of course I want to curse you... you're a monster and psychotic and a lot of other things. But what in the fuck are you trying to prove?" I shake my head. "You're not even making sense, and if you have never cared then why'd you help me all those years?"
Is that it? Are you trying to prove I can't? That I don't even really want to?
I look at him almost pityingly and slowly unclench my fist from around the wand, still holding it but loosely.
I still care about you, Logan. And you're messed up in the head.

[Logan Andrews]

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hiss, snaking my arm out and clenching long pale fingers around her wrist as she unclenches her fist from it, closing my other hand on top of hers around the handle of the wand, raising both of our hands so the wand is still pointed at me, "Do it, please."
Logan...
I've warned you, shut up.
You're going to get yourself killed.
Congratulations Mr Andrews. I think you've got it.

[Arden Patricks]

"What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yelp as he forces me to point my wand at him. And something dawns on me... something very disturbing. And highly unlikely.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" I hiss disbelievingly, trying to pull my hand away. "Is... is this some kind of twisted suicide? Because I'm not going to hurt you, Logan."

[Logan Andrews]

I don't let her pull her hand away, keeping mine firmly around hers which is surprisingly cold against my skin.
"I am giving you the chance to suceed where others have failed," I growl.
That's it...you've flipped. Completely and irrevocably gone barking mad.
I second that.

[Arden Patricks]

I make a sound halfway between a disbelieving laugh and horrified sob.
"Have you gone completely mad? I... can't kill you. If you've finally decided you were wrong, this is not the way to go about it. If you really want to die, then go talk to someone else." My voice is shaking at this point, and I try to pull my hand away again, shaking my head. "Because I'm not going to hurt you." Or let you go be hurt.
This has got to be a trick.
But if not? I can't let him be this stupid.

[Logan Andrews]

"I am not wrong, I know I'm not. But everyone else thinks I am. I can't be normal, I can't behave in a manner people deem normal. But I am not wrong," I say in a low voice, not having once dropped my gaze from hers, "You've turned on me, Arden. I have to admit, I never thought that would happen. The damage has been done, fair enough. It's only a matter of time before you join the ranks baying for my blood, and at that point then I will not hesitate to eliminate you if you become a threat and you will be kicking yourself for passing up this chance. But, I'd hope that when I do get 'taken care of', it'll be you that does it."
I remain still for a moment, then let her pull her hand away as if it had burned me to touch it.
Oh, and now I understand you again. You honestly are pathetic. You go insane because you cannot deal with fear and you cannot deal with hurt, well done, you've reached a new level.

[Arden Patricks]

I stare at him a moment, wand dropping to my side as I wonder if he's right. If I should take this chance before I regret it later. Slowly, hesitantly, I raise my wand again and hold it level to his heart, shaking slightly and feeling pale.
Just do it, Arden. He's right. Just hit him with a curse, anything. Anything to weaken him, hurt him so that somebody else can finish him off. You will regret it later and you know it. He's psychotic. He has something messed up in his head and he's not the person you thought he was. So just fucking hurt him like he deserves.
I shake my head, very slowly.
Just do it, Arden. Anything. Anything at all.

[Logan Andrews]

I keep my eyes on the wand tip, level with my heart.
Your cold dead barely beating heart, adds some snide voice in the back of my head, through the dull ache pounding through my skull. The dull ache pounding through all of me, besides the occasional stab of insistent betrayal in my throat, constricting my breathing.
I watch her shake her head, then push her wand tip away, "You are pathetic," I hiss.
You'll destroy me completely and then be too afraid to make the final blow...although I can't quite find a way to phrase this without it making me sound too weak.

[Arden Patricks]

"Not anymore," I shake my head, even as a voice dripping with condescension starts berating me for missing my chance. "You, on the other hand, need serious help of the mental variety. And I know a good psychiatrist. But I'm not going to hurt you." I glance down at my wand. You have said that far too often.
And that's because it's true.
You really want to help him after everything he's done?
Yes, exactly. I really want to help him after everything he did for me.

[Logan Andrews]

"Oh, a good fucking psychiatrist, well thank you for your consideration," I reply, voice dripping with disdain, snapping back into my usual mannerisms.
I immediately start berating myself for letting someone see me at my weakest, my hurt, my lowest low but remind myself that she probably didn't realise just what she was seeing. No harm in making sure, of course.
"Congratulations on re-enforcing my knowledge. You don't have it in you."

[Arden Patricks]

I look away, knowing it's a foolish thing to do and tensing up just in case, tightening my grip around my wand again.
"No, I guess I don't," I mutter quietly. I'm a weak, pathetic coward whose mind changes faster than the weather. I take out my 'low self-esteem issues' by insulting the people I like or slicing up my arms with pieces of bark....
And suddenly I'm angry. At myself, at my parents and my brother... at this war and everyone involved... at Chris and Will and Rowan... at this whole big stupid feud and our entire combined childhoods, at the fact that I'm a witch, at the universe in general and everything in it.
I turn to glare at Logan, tired of putting myself down and tired of hearing it from him, and the words are out of my mouth before I realize I'm thinking them.
"Crucio!" I say, just wanting to hurt anyone who's partially at fault for the mess I call my life. I'm shaking with anger and crying all over again, and for once I want to hurt.

[Logan Andrews]

The curse takes me by surprise and my knees buckle, not having time to brace myself and remain standing as I usually would.
The pain is familiar, lighting my nerve endings on fire, white hot needles burrowing into my flesh, and my headahce intensifies until the point where it feels my skull will shatter. Until it gets to the point where I'm looking forward to my skull shattering.
I'm dimly aware of my hands scraping through the earth in case I'd fall of the world backwards if I didn't take hold, and acknowledge even more dimly that wet soil and dead leaves are cool on the pads of my fingers, forced up under my nails. Then as my hair falls over my face, obscuring it from her view, I allow a small smile, bitter sweet in the knowledge that I've won.

[Arden Patricks]

I'm taken by surprise when he falls, as if it were somebody else who was cursing him like that, but after a moment it finally registers that, yes, it's really me, and I quickly lower my wand, staring at him with horrified wide eyes. Oh god... I can't believe I did that. I cannot believe I did that....
I shake my head, trying to say his name, to say I'm sorry, but it comes out in a squeak. I glance down at my wand arm as if trying to find out if it is really attached to me, taking orders from my brain... but my eyes cloud with tears and I can't tell.
I cannot believe I did that. Not to Logan, not to anyone. What the hell is wrong with me?

[Logan Andrews]

The pain cuts out abruptly and I haul myself to my hands and knees, panting slightly. I cough, my arms shaking slightly. Not sure they'd support me any longer, I move backwards onto my knees, moving one hand behind me to grip the trunk of a thick sturdy feeling tree.
I laugh breathily, leaning my head back against the wood and closing my eyes, "Impressive," I remark, eyes still closed, chest rising faster and deeper than usual as I try to catch my breath, "A lot of rage there."
I can't shake the feeling, that a half formed plan I hadn't acknowledged has failed, until I realise that attempting to make myself hate her in a bid to make it easier, hasn't worked because I simply still do not hate her.

[Arden Patricks]

I nod in some kind of automatic acknowledgment of the compliment, mildly disturbed to find myself taking it as such. "I'm not entirely pathetic," I say quietly, voice shaking just a little too much for the comment to sound truly icy or stinging, eyes still wide with horror.
I had no idea I could hurt someone that much. And, sickeningly, I kind of like it. I like the fact that I could take him by surprise, show him up. And it feels really good not be bottling all that anymore, so far down I hadn't even realized that it was there, but now it's finally gone I can feel the difference.

[Logan Andrews]

Disturbingly, I find myself half proud of her, as if I'd taught her myself.
"So I see," I reply, what could have been either a smirk or a smile playing at my lips, "I withdraw my observations."
I stay still for a moment, still catching my breath before moving my head forward again, opening my eyes to regard her, "You're all grown up Arden," I say, as if noticing it for the first time, "You're really not a little girl anymore."

[Arden Patricks]

I give a humorless laugh and shake my head. "Guess not."
And I guess we're not as different as I thought. What next, Arden? You going to call your friends mudbloods? Get a sickening tattoo slapped on your arm?
I resist the urge to apologize, afraid that he'll see it as a return to my usual weakness.
So what now? Is he forgiven? What the hell is going on in that mess of a head you've got there, Arden?

[Logan Andrews]

I watch her from the floor, lungs aching from the rapid drawing of cold still air that I'd managed to get under control. My joints ache, skin still pricking with pain. I hadn't had the curse put on me in a while after all.
"What's going on in there Arden?" I ask after a moment, "What are you thinking?"
It had always seemed obvious to me, but now along with the realisation she'd changed as much as I had it seemed she was unreadable. I almost missed the old Arden, because I definitely did not know the new one.

[Arden Patricks]

I laugh shortly again, this time with a slight hint of amusement. "To be honest, I don't know," I say, sitting back down again and shaking my head. "You have no idea how confused my head has gotten since I ran into you back at Three Broomsticks. Maybe before that, too, but you didn't help."
I pause, and listen to the small voice that's more like a feeling, translated into simple words.
You are still my friend.
I nod. Easy enough to understand. But what about the rest of it? The stuff I can't forgive? Is there any such thing?

[Logan Andrews]

I nod, "No, I have no idea. Can't have been easy I imagine," I remark, with a humourless laugh, "Don't think my head has been a good place to be either."
It's most off-putting to suddenly have a weakness, I'm tempted to add, but don't.
I shake my sleeve down over my arm, dragging the rough fibres across my forehead half to push my hair back and half to get rid of beads of sweat that had broken over the skin.

[Arden Patricks]

I nod, biting my lip.
So where in the hell do we stand? If I ask you questions will you snap and torture me again? Am I allowed to talk to Chris and see both sides?
"Is there anything remotely reconcilable here?" I ask aloud, almost without realizing. "Is there any way to reach a common ground? Or are we just too different now?" I pick up my wand and start turning it counterclockwise, running my fingers down the length of it and swinging it by the tip to do it again.

[Logan Andrews]

"You tell me," I reply shortly, drawing my legs up and resting my arms on my knees so my hands brush lightly against each other.

[Arden Patricks]

I stop twirling the wand and look over at him measuringly, trying to figure it out.
"A lot of that hinges on you though," I say after a moment. "Because I can accept... for the most part, or tolerate at least... what you are, what you do. But not if you can't tolerate my side." I swallow nervously and grip the wand for reassurance, heart pounding. I have no idea how far I can push things with him, and don't want to mention specifics, hoping he'll know what I mean.

[Logan Andrews]

My head snaps up, angling towards her and tilted, measuring her up.
A part of me is still faintly proud, and my admiration is fed to by how much it must have taken for her to dare say that.
It doesn't anger me so much anymore though, it doesn't make me feel like my authority is being questioned as it did before because I don't see her as I did before.
"You mean a friendship with Christopher?" I ask bluntly.

[Arden Patricks]

I shrug. "Among other things." Like being friends with mudbloods, traitor that I am. Hating what you are, with that mark on your arm. Just little things like that.
"I can't help but see his side, Logan," I say, half to the ground before looking up. I can't help but see that he seems like a better person than you. "Especially when... when you won't tell me anything," I finish quietly, dropping my eyes to the ground again and flinching just a little at the memory of the last time this subject came up.

[Logan Andrews]

"There is nothing to tell," I say sharply, a small hint of rage flaring in the pit of my stomach.
There is everything to tell.
Then my eyes find the floor again, before I get too worked up again.