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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 16:12:35 GMT
I slip very quietly into the back of the funeral home, not wanting to bother anyone.
You don’t deserve to be here and you barely knew the guy, one of my voices reminds me, but I shake my head to make it go away.
But he didn’t deserve this and I’m sorry. So so so so sorry, even though I didn’t do anything. But somebody has to apologize, and… and not so much apologize, but…. I stop, realizing I’m rambling inside my own head.
But he really didn’t deserve this, I finish, looking toward the coffin at the front, and the smaller one next to it… presumably the daughter Ian mentioned.
I swallow hard and fight back tears. I’m so sorry.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 16:22:41 GMT
It's pathetic that you feel you have to guard your brother and daughters funeral, you know that, don't you?
I shake off the small voice in the back of my head, with the harsh reminder that if I didn't someone like Logan might turn up and there was no way I was going to let that happen.
There's a prickling feeling in my chest that won't go away, the one that had been there since I'd found out but I'd been ignoring up until now. Now I could blame it on other things, like just returning from the cold Autumn weather outside into a centrally heated building, or a small protest that I shouldn't have just been smoking, or I'm coming down with a cough and that's why I feel so sick, not because of this.
The room had been empty when I left, and I expected it to be empty when I came back so it takes me a moment to register that there's someone else there and an even longer moment to register that it's someone who shouldn't be here.
"What are you doing here?" I ask sharply from the doorway.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 16:31:46 GMT
I jump about a foot when I hear an angry voice, and turn to see Ian in the doorway.
Told you that you really shouldn't be here.
"I... I'm sorry," I say in a dry, whispery voice, not entirely sure whether I'm apologizing or offering condolences.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 16:36:05 GMT
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I repeat, ashamed that I couldn't even keep my voice level anymore.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 16:40:54 GMT
I glance around the room as if looking for an exit. "I... I don't know. I'm sorry," I say again, a little louder.
If you didn't think that Logan could have done this, I think now you have your answer, says a voice that's dripping with condescension.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 16:53:07 GMT
You did this. You did this to them, to me, The words are burning in my throat, but I manage to ignore them.
"Logan send you here?" I ask shortly, "Thought it'd be amusing but isn't dumb enough to show up himself, huh?"
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 17:01:27 GMT
I shake my head. "I came here myself, I didn't... haven't seen him, didn't know that he...." I shake my head again. Another voice is screaming in my head that he couldn't, that he didn't, but I barely even hear it anymore.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 17:06:53 GMT
"Yeah, and why the fuck should I believe you? For all I know you're as bad as him; giving him some justification in his sadistic mess of a head to kill my brother and my daughter. Hell, for all I know you could be worse because I actually believed that you were naive to all of this," I snort bitterly, shaking my head slightly, "Fucking stupid of me, huh? Did you go and tell him I'd spoken to you just once as soon as the conversation was over or did you decide to be merciful and give them a couple of hours headstart?"
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 17:15:06 GMT
I shake my head some more, barely noticing I'm doing it. "I have no idea what you're talking about.... I would never have wanted this, even if I thought that you deserved it," I say, voice shaking. "I... I came here...." Out of respect and 'cause I wanted to say sorry 'cause I know that he's not going to and I thought that it might've been him. I came here to apologize... to you or Rowan or I don't know who, but I came here to apologize.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 17:20:03 GMT
"Came here to what?" I say, raising my voice without meaning to in the vague sub-conscious hope that if it's louder it won't shake so much, "Say your sorry? Cos no one wants your sympathy or condolances, I certainly don't and funnily enough he can't hear you anymore. Which is a shame, I'm sure he'd have been much more understanding about this than I am."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 17:26:20 GMT
I close my eyes as if as some kind of shield against his anger, flinching slightly. "Well... I'm sorry. I am. I don't know why else I'm here. But I didn't...." I glance up toward the coffins again and can't stop the tears this time.
Oh, fuck. You do not deserve to cry, least of all in front of him.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 19:13:46 GMT
I fall silent as she starts crying, not sure what to say anymore.
You're being irrational and you know it. She doesn't deserve you shouting at her.
Then who does? If not her fault, then who's?
Your own. Not that you'll ever face up to that.
"Tell Logan the next time you see him, tell him he's won," I mutter bitterly, lowering my voice again but unable to thaw the frost in my tone completely, "Tell him I surrender, he's won."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 19:26:08 GMT
I look down at the floor, a few tears in my eyes but no new ones forming as I try to stay in control of myself. "I'm sorry," I say again before I can stop myself, then just shake my head.
Sorry for what, Arden? Being his friend? Because you're not still his friend, are you?
"I don't know if I can see him again, and I'm sorry," I say quietly.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 19:47:13 GMT
I don't say anything, just watch the floor as if waiting for it to open and swallow me up completely.
That'd be quite welcome right about now.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 19:55:13 GMT
I look up after a moment when it's been silent for too long to see him looking at the floor. I nod.
Your best friend isn't there no more. And the person who is thinks this is amusing.
My eyes fill up with tears again at that thought, and I nod again. No more forgiveness. Not for him.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 19:57:47 GMT
I run my hand through my hair, frustratedly before saying, "Fuck," loudly and for no reason evident even to me.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 20:02:43 GMT
I give a sort of laugh, crying harder but pretty much silently as I lean against the wall, not having anything to say that would express it all better than he just did.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 20:05:40 GMT
"This is so completely fucked!" I say, louder than last time, not to her but just in general, wanting nothing more than to break something.
Step one; denial. Step two; sadness. Step three; anger-...
This just serves to piss me off more.
I am not going through some stupid dealing with death step program.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 20:10:00 GMT
I nod again, more to myself than him, as I wipe away my tears and just stand miserably against the wall, feeling like I haven't got the energy to stand upright on my own.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 20:24:27 GMT
"You ever feel like everything is just building up and up and up, and then it gets to the point where you take one hit...just one hit...and it's all going to fall down and then that'll be it?" I mutter, not really expecting an answer, "Cos it feels fucked. And I want my fucking brother back and I want my fucking daughter back and I want fucking Logan fucking dead."
I stop speaking, because it's actually taking so much effort it's taking the breath out of me, and just sit heavily in a chair on the edge of the room.
I hadn't expected to melt down in her company at all, but I couldn't really stop myself now.
Just let go, completely. Just let go.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 20:43:11 GMT
I notice vaguely that it hurts a bit when he says that about Logan, but since I already feel like someone's been stabbing me repeatedly, I don't react much, just shrugging.
Not really, but I'm sure it feels bad, I think, lacking the energy to open my mouth. I sink down to the floor against the wall, putting my forehead in my interlaced hands. A part of me wants to say something to him, but I haven't the slightest clue what.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 28, 2007 20:58:14 GMT
"Let go of the bitterness, it's the first step."
I don't want fucking steps. There's no point.
I want revenge, and I want to go back and change this, and I want everything to be okay but I do not want fucking steps.
I look back at the floor again, still waiting for it to open up and swallow me.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 28, 2007 21:02:52 GMT
I take and let out a deep breath before looking up again and drying the rest of the tears with my sleeve.
You're finally going to be you again, says something in my head, fleetingly, though I'm not sure if that's true or if I ever stopped being me. I glance over at Ian and open my mouth to say... nothing. I close it again and shrug.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 29, 2007 21:52:50 GMT
"Sorry," I manage eventually, then fall silent again, not sure how to elaborate. And aware that this is the second time I've had to apologise for being a complete fucker to her in as many days.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 29, 2007 21:55:11 GMT
I shake my head quickly. "You've got nothing to apologize for," I say quietly.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 29, 2007 22:04:40 GMT
"No, I really do," I mumble, then stop, absently locking my fingers together and then unlocking them again.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 29, 2007 22:06:07 GMT
"Like what?" I ask with a humorless laugh, then shake my head. "No... you don't."
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 29, 2007 22:14:26 GMT
"For everything," I mumble, still watching my hands.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 29, 2007 22:18:36 GMT
I shake my head, still not knowing what he's getting at or why he would say it to me.
You're thick, you know that?
"If you mean the... yelling at me... I deserved that. Or even if I didn't, you don't have to apologize," I shrug, looking down at the floor, and shifting so I'm sitting crosslegged.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Oct 29, 2007 22:30:52 GMT
"No, you didn't deserve the yelling. Or the accusations. Or having to bear the brunt of my grief. It's not fair."
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