echolls_cursed | Entries tagged with joe

It had been a while since they'd been out camping together, and a lot had changed since the first time they'd gone out. From marriage to the loss of friends, they'd both seen so much change in their lives, but even though they weren't the same men who'd met on the island years ago, some things hadn't changed. The way they laughed at the same stupid jokes, or the way they gently bumped shoulders with each other in a silent show of affection sometimes.

Those things never changed.

Logan had already set up the sleeping bags and was currently working on trying to build a fire as he glanced over at Joe.

"I think mom's lighter is finally out of gas," he said. "Guess it had to happen eventually, I ran out of stuff to refill it with a while ago. Can you get me the plastic lighter out of my bag?"

They'd talked about it, kind of, and while Logan couldn't help but think it was sort of sweet that Jack wanted Joe's permission... Well, he was also fairly sure that letting the other man go alone wouldn't end well. It didn't matter that Jack would try and behave, or that Joe was doing all he could to accept the fact that Logan was with Jack, the two men just seemed unable to click.

Nothing Jack did seemed to win Joe over completely, and even though Logan went out of his way to try and get Joe to warm to the other man- it just didn't seem to be working.

"I'm coming," he'd said simply, not giving Jack a chance to argue as he finished getting ready. "He's gonna want to talk to me about it anyway, so I may as well be there." Which was true, but they both knew that wasn't why Logan was coming. Of course, neither of them said as much out loud as they made their way to the Hamlet, their shoulders brushing as they walked.

Standing outside Joe's door, Logan was struck with a sudden feeling of dread, but before he could suggest leaving and coming back later Jack was knocking on the door.

(tagging order: Joe, Jack, Logan)

Logan had left Jack's early, knowing that before he packed a single bag he needed to go see Joe.

Stepping into the Hamlet, he couldn't help but feel a little heartbroken. Sure, he was excited about moving in with Jack, he wanted to take that next step and see where it took them, but that didn't make it any easier to say goodbye to his home. As small as the island was, each neighbourhood couldn't have been more different, and the Hamlet was like no other. It was small and close knit, and the first place Logan had ever felt at home in.

And of course, there was Joe.

He didn't bother knocking, he rarely did in the morning. Not unless he thought Joe and Dale might be- well, he tried not to think about what Joe and Dale did. Still, he could hear Joe's guitar, and that was enough to make him open the door.

"Hey," he called out. "You decent?"

So, okay, he hadn't gone to see the dinosaurs, but he had gone up to the mountain. It hadn't been a long trip or a long stay. Gone on Tuesday, back by Thursday morning. Nothing monumental or exciting had happened, and whatever it was he'd been hoping to find out there hadn't been found.

Still, Linus had enjoyed the trip, and a few days away from the world had helped clear his head a little.

The hut was starting to get a little untidy again, but he made no move to clean anything up, dumping his bag out on the table and tossing the dirty laundry in a pile in the corner before putting down the food he'd grabbed for Linus at the compound when he'd stopped off for a shower.

In fact, his hair was still damp, and when he heard someone head up the steps to his stilted hut he raked his fingers through it, causing it to stand on end as he glanced over to see who it was.

It wasn't often Logan looked... tidy. It wasn't like he was dirty or anything usually, but he had a habit of wearing clothes that were too big, and the amazing ability to look a little raggy no matter what he had on. Today though, it was obvious some amount of effort had gone into his appearance. He was clean shaven for starters, something he didn't always bother with on the island, his hair had been trimmed, and despite sticking up on all ends it appeared to have been styled into place. And then there were the clothes. Logan hadn't been sure what he was supposed to wear, and in the end had settled on a blue button down shirt and a pair of jeans that not only fit, but appeared to not have a single hole in them.

It was a big day for Joe, and Logan wanted things to be right. He wanted this to be perfect for the other man.

Sitting on Joe's bed, he strummed the guitar once and then stopped, watching Joe and doing his best not to look as nervous as he felt. It was sort of a relief though to see that Joe was nervous too... and, well, sort of worrying as well. They needed to get it together, and fast, it was nearly time to head over to the stage after all.

"It's gonna be a great show," Logan said, breaking the silence. "You're gonna be awesome, man."

Logan hadn't even bothered to get changed after his run in with Jack, let alone shower, and when he finally made his way to Joe's he was still covered in spots of blood and bruises, and he reeked of sex. He felt disgusting, he felt filthy in so many ways... Sick and grimy and... Just generally like shit.

Linus was surprisingly quiet and well behaved as he trotted along at his side, as if he knew something was wrong, and the tiny golden dog whimpered softly as it looked up at his master.

Every last inch of him ached, inside and out. Jack had done a number on him before they'd finally rolled their way into bed, and Neil... Just thinking about Neil made Logan hurt. It made his chest tight and his eyes damp, and it left him feeling sick to know that he'd already slammed that door shut behind himself. Like there was just no going back now that he'd done what he'd done. He felt guilty, and sick, and alone, and... God, he needed to see Joe. He needed someone who wasn't going to judge him or use him.

With a bundle of clothes under one arm, and his surfboard under the other, Logan knocked quietly on Joe's door.

(From here)

Logan was unsteady on his feet, and he stumbled a little as he started to head away from the party. He didn't really want to be there anyway. In fact, he wasn't sure why he went to those things even. All he ever did was get wasted and end up making huge mistakes or an ass of himself. So leaving was good, and leaving with Joe was even better. Joe was sober. Joe wouldn't let him get stupid.

Current Mood: drunk

Logan waited outside the hut until long after the sun set, silently hoping that Neil would change his mind and come home. He waited until midnight, and then until one, the hours ticking by slowly. Not that Logan knew what time it was, but he knew when it was time to give up.

Eyes damp, he headed inside and over to Joe's room, tapping lightly on the door. He couldn't remember if Dale was there or not, but he also wasn't sure he cared. Right that moment he just knew he needed Joe, and he knocked louder as the tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"Joe," he said, waiting for the other man to let him in.

Current Mood: gloomy

They'd been spared.

It was Halloween morning, and there wasn't a pair of hooker-boots between them. It was a huge relief, one which they promptly celebrated with a little roughhousing and a lot of kissing. Both of which were going well until Logan backed into one of Neil's shelves, knocking it down and banging his head.

That sort of killed the mood.

After a brief argument about who's fault it had been, Neil had left in hopes of borrowing some nails and a hammer from the building crew, leaving Logan to tidy up and get dressed. He wasn't alone for long though, and when Logan heard the door open behind him, he instantly assumed it was Joe, coming to see just what the hell they'd been doing.

"You know, in some cultures, they have this thing called 'knocking'. Apparently it stops people from walking in on one another while they're getting dressed," Logan quipped, pulling on a t-shirt and turning around.

He really wished he hadn't.

""Nothing I haven't seen before," Aaron replied, his voice laced with that carefully practiced tone of a loving father. "I spent a good six years bathing you after all."

Something told him that Aaron wasn't going to simply vanish this time, and Logan struggled with himself for a moment as he tried to decide how to react. "You mean the Nanny spent six years bathing me," he corrected, forcing himself to stay casual and relaxed. "Rosalita always had a softer touch than you anyway."

Aaron laughed, a forced and cold sound that Logan was all too familiar with. The calm before the storm. "I've missed you, Logan. I'm really looking forward to becoming a family again."

Logan just shook his head. "You're not my family anymore," he said firmly, voice level and calm. "I'm twenty now, and you're not my father. You were never my father. Just the asshole that..."

He was promptly cut off by the back of Aaron's hand as it hit his cheek, snapping his head to the side with a sound that seemed to echo off the hut walls. "Don't be disrespectful," his father said simply. "I don't care how old you are, you are my son, and you'll show me some respect. You're right, you're not a child anymore, and I won't treat you like one if you don't act like one."

Rubbing his cheek, Logan glared, fighting back the feeling of fear that sat deep in his gut. "You're not my father," he said again, looking up at the older man for a long moment, and then trying to push past him so he could leave.

He really should have known better, but after all this time, he didn't want to be the weak child he'd been two years ago. He didn't want to cave and let Aaron shove him around. He'd built a new life here, and if would take more than a slap in the face to get him to give it up. When Aaron grabbed his arm though, fingers digging into his forearm as he shoved him roughly back into the room and onto the bed, Logan couldn't fight the fear any longer. In that moment, he was seven again, and Aaron... Aaron was the most frightening person in the world.

Mouth open slightly, there was an obvious look of panic on Logan's face as he watched Aaron move closer.

"Is this how it has to be?" he father asked. "Twenty years old, and you still need to be taught how to treat someone with respect? It's embarrassing, Logan, I hope you know that. You should be ashamed of this." Fingers moving to his belt, Aaron just shook his head as he slipped it free from the belt loops on his jeans. "We'll do it this way then."

Logan didn't even argue. He knew better than that. In the long run, the belt tended to be the better option. It was usually enough to calm Aaron down, preventing bloody noses or broken bones. That didn't make it any easier to swallow though, and Logan's stomach turned as he got to his feet and pulled off his shirt. He didn't need to be told to face the wall, he just did it, forcing his mind to go blank as he heard Aaron step up behind him.

"You know I only do this because I love you," he heard his father say... right before the first lash fell.

When it was over, Logan's back burned, and he wasted no time pulling his shirt back on. "I need you to leave," he said calmly, glancing at his father. "You can go to the compound... that big building... you can get a room or something. You can't be here though. Alright?"

Aaron just raised a brow. "Don't want to introduce me to your boyfriend then? You're lucky you're mother's not alive to hear about that. It would have killed her."

Logan just frowned, knowing that wasn't true. "Lucky you drove her to suicide you mean," he corrected coldly. And this time... This time he waited to hit the ground.

(Locked to those close to Logan, If you want to tag in and didn't already get an okay from me, just drop me an e-mail.)

Current Location: Logan and Neil's hut

Logan didn't do bars, not often any way. Too many people, too much going on... too many girls sniffing for money rather than love. Usually he hated it, but tonight...

Tonight he just needed to get out, to have a few drinks and enjoy the city of LA for what it was. Mindless, soulless, and empty. Really, the more he dwelled on it the more Logan was sure those were exactly the sort of qualities he'd been looking for in home, and he grinned as he polished off his drink and left enough cash on the bar for tip and his tab.

Ignoring the many writhing and twisting bodies on the dance floor, Logan made his way to the exit, ready to head home for the night. Passing the pool table, he pushed open the door and stepped into the night. The streets were busy, but he didn't mind, he'd cut through the alleyway and take a shortcut home.

The lamp light flickered as he stepped into the darkened ally, blinking out just as he headed into the shadows. It was alright though, he wasn't scared, he wasn't some sweet sixteen princess with her virtue to worry about... Logan was tough. He was eighteen now, and he had no fear.

Seeing as how he and Neil had been fighting about damn near everything all week, Logan had been more than a little eager to go camping with Joe by the time Saturday morning rolled around. So eager, in fact, that he'd already been to the compound to find a sleeping bag in the clothes box (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle themed no less), and had packed his make-shift bag before Joe had even come to find him.

For once Logan was ahead of the game, knocking on Joe's door to see if he was ready.

God, he'd never thought he'd be so eager to stare at trees for nearly forty-something hours.

"Hey, you ready?" he asked, knocking once and then pushing the door open a crack. "I grabbed some food for us to take or whatever... so, uh, I'm ready to go when you are man."

When Logan woke to find all his limbs a little shorter, his hair a touch longer and blonder, and his body just a touch scrawnier, he had smiled. Turning his head, he'd looked at Neil, noting that he was smaller too. Much smaller. And for a moment he'd been tempted to wake the other boy just to show him.

After all, who didn't like getting to be small again?

But no, in the end he'd simply let the other boy sleep.

Climbing out of bed, he looked down at his race car pyjama bottoms, noting that they looked a lot better than they had the night before. Last night they'd been lame and childish, but today? Today they were awesome. Race cars always were. On top of that, for whatever reason, Logan knew he was five and a half. Nearly six! Maybe simply because children always know those things. However, as he pulled on one of his smaller shirts (now ridiculously over sized), he couldn't help the rush of memories that came flooding back.

Six had been a very bad year for Logan. Six had been when things went from bad too worse.

When he was just a little older than five and a half, Aaron had taken his first real swing at him, knocking him over hard enough that he'd lost a baby tooth. Logan shivered at the memory and cupped a hand over his mouth, trying not to remember the rest. He'd stopped talking after that, just... stopped. He didn't say a word for nearly six months. In fact, it wasn't until Aaron finally lost it, taking action by stubbing a cigar out on his arm, that Logan had started talking again.

Arms folded over his chest, he stared at Neil for a long moment, and then headed out the door, vowing not to say a word unless he had to. He'd be quiet and invisible, and eventually this would all be over. The memories would vanish again and he could forget it all once more.

He stood outside Joe's hut for what felt like an eternity, eventually peeking his head around the door for a look. Joe was alone and still fully grown, sleeping soundly by the looks of it.

Quiet at a mouse, Logan snuck inside, crawling onto the bed and curling up at Joe's side, cuddling the older man stealthily.

At least with Joe he felt safe. Protected. The weekend would be fine as long as he stuck close to Joe.

All Joe does is take another drink of water and he's making absolutely no move to hide that he's watching now. They don't seem to mind much anyway and he stretches his legs out in front of him, the gun still laid across his lap. It'll probably stay there for awhile now, especially if the two of them keep going at it. They don't need to know that he's enjoying watching them like this.

( More crack under the cut. )

Day 45

When Logan wakes it's not morning yet, not really. It's getting there though and he wonders if Neil brought any food.

They need money, badly, and Logan takes advantage of the small built in U.I.S. in the wall too read up on earth clothes and how much they can be worth. The Jeans alone are worth more than enough to get them home, it's all a matter of finding a buyer. The right amount of time spent in the right shit hole ought to find them a dealer though, it's simply a matter of finding him something else to wear while they deal.

He doesn't wake Neil as he starts to dig through the other boy's things, looking for extra clothes and money. If Neil's brought Logan's real papers as well, he thinks he might have enough in his account to buy some simple clothes. Maybe.

"Wake up," he says quietly, nudging the other boy's shoulder. "We gotta get going."

( Drugs are bad, don't do drugs. )

Day 43.

I clear my throat. The recorder flicks off, screen going static, and I flick it with my index finger. Curse under my breath, the recorder picking up the last two syllables. -ucker- when it clicks back on.

Day 43. Things are, uh, falling into place, so to speak. Got the papers, the clearance, and if my informant's right... Well, the trail is shortening... God, this sounds really fucking lame, don't it? I hate these things... But I figure maybe I should make a record, you know? Well, I've been over all that... Day 43, and I been makin' these since Day 1. Dunno who'll listen. Maybe there'll be no one left. But I can't stop lookin'... I'm not ready to give up. I gotta believe he wouldn't give up on me.

Pause. My face goes out of frame. Rustling and another cough 'fore I turn back to the recorder, looking even more haggard than before.

This might be my last recordin'... Might not. But I know I gotta find him soon, or there won't be nothin' left to bring home.

Uh, Neil McCormick, resident Mars Colony B... Year 2797... August 19th... Signing off.

( This is why they tell you not to smoke crack )

Current Mood: creative

Logan should have been in a good mood, seeing as how he wasn't trapped in the compound anymore, and his and Neil's hut hadn't been destroyed, but he wasn't. in fact, he was moodier then usual even. Joe had never stopped by the hut, and the only reason Logan's brain would offer him was... Joe was still doing drugs.

Now he had no evidence of this, no reason to point his finger at the older man. He was just stuck on it. He was stuck on the way Joe had looked that day when he'd found him, and he was stuck on the last half hour of that fucking documentary. In fact, the damn thing was practically on repeat in his head.

If he'd known where he lived, Logan would have headed straight to Dale's to demand answers, deciding that if Joe wasn't around to blame, he'd blame the guy who loved him.

After nearly an hour of just walking and wandering, Logan finally headed for the compound. Maybe he could ask around at the IPD and the Council offices. Someone had to know where Joe was staying.

Logan didn't say anything when he saw Joe come in, and when he saw Ray start to explain what had happened, he looked away. He'd done nothing but yell and argue for the last hour or so, swearing up a storm and refusing to stay in the clinic. When told that he had to be in the care of somebody, he offered up the name of the only person who still wanted anything to do with him.

"Joe, I'll go with Joe," he'd told Ray.

They'd taken his gun, making it pretty clear that he wasn't getting it back. Not that he cared. Logan didn't much care about anything now, he just wanted to go home. He just wanted to forget everything and start over again.

--- --- ---

This was where Joe figured the testing started to happen, where he found out if he was really cut out for this shit with Logan and he rubbed his hand over his head nervously as Ray explained what he'd seen, everything that had happened. It made Joe feel sort of sick and brought back the sharp memory of the crack of his own gun, of the exploding pain and then nothing. Then the island. Unable to actually thank Ray the way he wanted to, Joe just squeezed his arm, probably too hard, then limped over to Logan.

There wasn't a hell of a lot he could think to say and he figured his throat was probably still too tight to really get anything out, so he just nodded in the direction of the clinic door. Stewie's room was empty now and Logan could stay there. No, fuck that, Logan would stay there, he wasn't getting any say in that and he sure as hell wasn't going to be spending any time alone in the near future.

--- --- ---

( Logan didn't say anything as he got to his feet )

After his run in with Veronica in the men's room, Logan wasn't really sure where he was going. One day he was going to learn not to hang out in the compound. Really, in and out, no more talking to people. Because most of the time talking left him either feeing pissed off or...

Or whatever this was supposed to be.

His father was dead. Correction, his father had been found innocent and then shot by someone. It wasn't like Veronica to leave out details when she had them, unless she felt like she needed to protect something, so Logan could only assume that she either knew nothing, or he was the one being protected this time. Either way, he had a bad feeling about all of it.

Then of course there was the nagging knowledge that his father was dead. A fact that was pulling him in so many different emotional directions that he nearly had to sit down. Aaron Echolls was an asshole, but he was still Logan's father. So the guilt and the pain both tugged him in their own preferred direction, and the fear loomed the way it so often did. Fear that he was a killer. Fear that death was Aaron's one way ticket to the island just waiting to happen.

He hadn't even realized where he was going until he was there. Standing outside Joe and Billy's hut, Logan hesitated. He didn't even know if they were home or sleeping or... anything. With a sigh, he sank down to the ground, knees pulled to his chest as he waited. Maybe someone would wake up... or come home.

Current Mood: confused
Current Music: Flaming Lips - Bad Days

Logan wasn’t sure where Neil was off getting ready, but he was back at the hut pulling on the suit the clothes box had offered up at the last minute. It was all black besides the crisp white button down shirt which Logan was now buttoning up, an uneasy look on his face as he looked at the wall rather then Joe.

Joe had been with him most of the morning, and Logan was feeling a little paranoid, convinced that Joe could somehow tell what he was thinking and feeling. And really, that was something he didn’t want anyone to know.

He was petrified, full of doubt and regret as he swallowed hard and straightened his collar. What the hell was he doing? Getting married, why had that seemed like a good idea at all? He was nineteen, they both were. They were way too young and fucked up to be settling down for good.

He picked up the black tie and draped it around his neck before going still and glancing at Joe.