another last resort (Logan)

[Fitzy Patricks]

I have four days left to either kill my sister or be officially declared disloyal and therefore dead myself. The obvious solution – just killing myself so she stays safe – held some appeal for about an hour, until I realized that much as I like the second bit, I really hate the first. Worthless as my life might be, I’m not dying yet, not if I can help it.

So my other options – finding a way to convince Arden she should either go into hiding or swear loyalty to the Lord – have gained a new importance. Oddly enough, however, she really doesn’t trust me. And the few friends of hers I’ve met are not exactly people who will put their hearts and souls into telling her that she should be a death eater – with the exception of one, that is.

”Try some dark alley somewhere or maybe a motel, the forest?”

I let out a very slow, shaky breath, fidgeting nervously with my wand but being careful not to draw it because very, very likely that will just make me dead. I do not want to provoke him, not when he already hates me. And I look around the clearing that I’ve found myself in, half-hoping he won’t be here but knowing that I’d better hope he is. Because Arden is quite stubborn and it likely will take every single minute of the next four days to wear her down. I can’t afford to not find him.

So as much as I don’t want to, I take in a deep breath and shout into the trees. “Logan? Logan Andrews?” I ask, looking around the clearing, wondering idly if it’s the last thing I’ll ever see.

[Logan Andrews]

I listen more intently than I had been before as I hear my name. I'd been listening to the blundering footsteps since they'd come within earshot without real interest. I'd had my fill of torture for today, and didn't feel like pursuing anymore prey.
But my name...now why would my name be being called? It didn't make all that much sense to me. And the voice is...vaguely familiar.
I watch from my favourite tree at the someone in the clearing, edging further up the branch silently to get a better look. I have to grip the wood a little harder to stop a surprised sort of reaction, and get my bearings again.
This is surreal.
"Fitzgerald...Fitzwilliam Patricks, now there's a face I hoped never to see again," I smirk from my branch, hauling myself up to a sitting position and looking down at him, "No games today please, not in the mood. What do you want?"

[Fitzy Patricks]

I jump back a bit in surprise, head snapping up to the branch.
Oh, this is quite ideal, I think, not liking the idea of looking up at him like that.
“Likewise,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “Any chance you might come down from there then?” I ask, stalling as I try to recompose my answer, polish it up properly.

[Logan Andrews]

"Don't answer a question with a question, silly boy," I shake my head, making a soft tutting noise in the back of my throat, "It's not very polite and it gets you no where fast, that's for sure."
I brush my hands against each other, trying to clear them off bark residue and dust as I edge backwards slightly on the branch to get a better look at him.
It's all a matter of control, Logan, don't let it slip.
...Yes, thank you voice...
"Bu-ut, since you asked nicely. No, there's very little chance of me coming down here. I played your game and answered your question now you answer mine. What do you want Fitzy?" I ask, making his name last for an extra few syllables in a childish sort of way.

[Fitzy Patricks]

I sigh loudly, eying him with a great deal of dislike before reminding myself that I can't afford to antagonize him.
"Well, much as I despise you, I sort of need your help," I explain in a clipped voice, wanting to get this over with. "Arden is in trouble, and if ever you've given a fuck about her as anything other than... I don't know, some naive pawn that you find amusing... now would be a good time to show it," I say, watching his reaction carefully.

[Logan Andrews]

I snort softly through my nose, although my heart seems to have stopped in my chest for a moment before speeding up to beat twice the amount it should in one minute.
There was no need to let it show.
"Oh?" I ask, leaning backwards on the branch lazily, more to turn my face away from him so he wouldn't be able to pick up on any anxiety or whatever else I was feeling from my expression, "You have me intrigued. Care to elaborate?"

[Fitzy Patricks]

You really don’t give a fuck, do you? I think, shaking my head at him disgustedly. But I still have to take the chance.
”She’s been labeled as a blood traitor and targeted,” I say, being very, very careful lest I let something slip about how this situation is my fault… just in case he really does care. “And I need someone she trusts to convince her to either go into hiding… or… see the error of her ways and join our side.” I pause a moment, feeling slightly sick. “I can’t think of anyone she’s likely to listen to other than you.”

[Logan Andrews]

My heads immediately elsewhere. Thoughts a mile a minute of where to find her, what I'd need to say, how soon I could slip away from this conversation without making it obvious I actually give a fuck.
If there was one thing I'd learnt by now it was not to let on that I give a fuck to another death eater.
"And what's in it for me?" I ask, turning my head to face him with a smirk in place, picking at the bark by my side, which is the only sign I'll allow that shows anything at all.

[Fitzy Patricks]

"Honestly?" I laugh. "Nothing at all."
I turn to leave the forest, realizing that now I've got to make the most painful decision of my life - whose life is more important, mine or my sister's?
Then I reconsider. Even if he doesn't really care, she still trusts him and she'll listen... if he can be convinced to do it.
On the other hand, you never know. Could be a trap... but in that case I'm probably already screwed.
I shrug, turning back to face him. "What do you want?" I ask bluntly, careful to make the question merely curious rather than desperate.

[Logan Andrews]

"What do I want? What do I want?" I muse, tapping my jaw thoughtfully.
I regard him carefully for a moment, still with the air of someone thinking although I've already made up my mind, then hauling myself into a sitting position on the wood.
"What do I want?" I ask, "Oh, I know."
My eyes narrow slightly as I draw my wand from my pocket, "I want to know what your game is. Why start pretending you care now? What are you going to gain?"

[Fitzy Patricks]

I tense just a bit as he draws his wand, half-wishing I’d never come here, but decide not to go for my own, just shaking my head in disgust at his idiocy.
“You want to know what my game is? Pretending to care?” I repeat, shaking my head again. “What I gain is Arden’s life, rather than death. Oddly enough I have always cared about that. Why do you think I tried to keep her as far away from you as I possibly could?”

[Logan Andrews]

I drop from my branch to the ground in front of him, relishing in the fact that we're the same height, of similar build, and the knowledge that my reputation is far more sinister than his and rumour has it that he's gone soft.
"Because you're a little fucker," I reply, being sure to move my wand upwards slightly in my hand so that it's directly pointed up from the base of his ribcage, "I would not hurt her."

[Fitzy Patricks]

"Oh, right," I snort, unable to resist drawing my wand now, but starting to get rather angry over the fear. "Sadistic fuck like you, I'm sure you hung around with someone as soft and weak as Arden because you liked the philosophic conversation. And that time that she came home with bruises all over her neck, shrugged and said she made you mad... you nearly killed her and say you wouldn't hurt her?"

[Logan Andrews]

"Yes, right," I hiss, "We were children Fitzy. Volatile ones at that. Now I wouldn't so much as lay a finger on her."
This isn't strictly true, I know as I've crucio-ed her quite recently but he doesn't know that or need to.
"You can't tell me you haven't done things like that you regret," I smirk slightly, steering the conversation safely away, "You've gone soft for a death eater. A sign you're feeling remorse?"

[Fitzy Patricks]

I stare at him coldly, shaking my head. “No, no remorse. Anything I did to her, or to anyone else, was well-deserved. And I certainly haven’t gone soft.” I can hear a bit of panic beneath the derisive, angry bite of the words, but convince myself he certainly can’t.
And even if I have, I can change back. Even if it means killing Arden because this moron won’t help.
I nod to myself, then shake my head at him disgustedly one last time. “If you really wouldn’t hurt her then help her, and if not, I guess she dies.” I shrug casually to show how little this means to me, turning away.