Survivor?

“You’re such an arse,” Andrew growled in response to Logan’s laugh, “you know what I meant. Don’t belittle my own statement like that.” The dagger dug deeper at the loss of Logan’s hand. It twisted a little more, burst every vital artery. He pulled back as Logan did, but instead turned away in order to hide the onslaught of what he felt were the brimming of salted tears. He cursed himself in silence. He couldn’t recall the last time there’d been a single tear shed, and now the man that outraged him was drawing out the beginnings of something. “That isn’t your decision– who I want to be with. Like Dale. It’s my choice, and it always will be. If your choice isn’t me then so be it, but mine is you. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want you to leave if that’s all you’re ever going to do.”

There were adequate words to put his emotions into. On the one hand his anger was scalding, his inner monologue scathing and on the other hand his blood ran cold at Dale’s name being uttered in the same sentence as his own. Logan knew that he hadn’t done enough to know that no comparisons could be drawn between the two of them but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. Didn’t stop the growl from rumbling in his throat as he heard it either. Then his heart practically stopped at the notion of Andrew not wanting him any more. It being over before he even knew he really wanted it.

bunchofrpmemes :

Andrew had been reaching for his pack when Logan’s action caused him to jump. He dropped the duffel by its strap and turned, wide-eyed and focused on the sudden change in conversation. There had been plenty of rumors to confirm Logan Cook’s battle with cancer; even the latest press on Park Avenue had deliberated their own interests.  “Logan,” the Scotsman exhaled a sigh as he approached, “dying doesn’t take away the definition of survivor.” He curled his hand around the man’s fist, attempting to straighten out fingers clenched with anger. “You don’t have to make it to the end of the year alone. That’s what I’ve always wanted you to know. To understand. Because you deserve that whether attempt to deny it or not.”

“Pretty sure your definition of survivor is from a different dictionary to mine then.” Giving a bitter laugh Logan was about to continue with anger in his voice, his rage straining to break free and fill the room. To break anything and everything. But instead he found his heart rate picking up for a different reason when he Scotsman took his hand. A sense of calm washed over him, something Logan hadn’t thought he’d ever get again but as much as he wanted to revel in it he knew he couldn’t. “I know I don’t have to but it’s my choice to. That’s what I wanted you to know. That I’m not about to let someone get close to me when I’m about to expire.” His eyes were drawn to their hands once more, except this time he had his resolve back. With every bit of self control he had, Logan pulled his arm back slowly, his hand following. The way he slipped it from Andrew’s grasp made something tighten in his chest from the loss of the contact between them. The loss of the thing that had been providing him comfort. But this wasn’t about him, he couldn’t be selfish. “I won’t do that to you, Andrew.”

“Well, you certainly make it that way, don’t you? Honestly, Cook, you either want to spend time with me then act like you hate it, or you don’t want to spend time with me and act like you do. I’ve no idea what you fecking expect me to do with this.” Andrew did not pay his apology attention, not after he’d just finished a speech regarding its useless presence. “I like to think I’m done with you. Now if you could leave so I could keep believing that, it would be the first honest thing you did for me.” A fight at the underground was beginning to seem promising regardless of having just recently taken part. He reached for the jacket draped across his chair’s backing, prepared to take his leave as soon as Logan left the premises.

He didn’t think he’d ever met someone so damn infuriating in their opinions and what only added to his anger was the fact that he knew he couldn’t even defend himself. Hot and cold, resisting and then caving, distancing himself but at the same time unable to cut ties completely. Despite knowing he’d been unfair, he'd already given his apology and while it hadn’t been well recieved he wasn’t about to beg. The original decision he’d made to just stay away seemed like the one he was now going to follow, his anger and it apparently being what Andrew wanted his main motivation as he strode wordlessly back to the door. Except as soon as his fingers met with the cool metal of the handle they lost all willingness to carry out the action needed for him to leave for good. Frustration got the better of him and before he could stop himself, the side of his fist pounded against the wood. “You want honesty? Fine.” Words flew from his lips quickly and roughly, before he let his mind censor his statement. “I’m fucking dying, Andrew. I’m not the survivor everyone thinks I am, turns out I can’t really beat cancer because it came back for me. It’ll be a fucking miracle if I make it to the end of the year.”

The choppy waves of the Hudson could only remind Liliya of the Volga River. Her hometown was just one of many that had suffered from the famine twenty-three years prior. Liliya had only been a baby at the time and was lucky to even have survived, but Masha had told her stories of what she had remembered. She told Liliya about the morning when whoever was strong enough to leave their houses waited on the banks of the Volga for the first Red Cross boat to arrive. Liliya would picture her old neighbors, standing emaciated and shivering by the side of the river. But here, on the Hudson, there were men loading supplies onto cargo ships, relief for the soldiers far from home. Far over the bay, the sky was growing grey, a storm brewing over the water.

He didn’t know why he did it, tortured himself with watching others actively doing something to help the soldiers. Those men down there were preparing to risk their lives to give their soldiers what they needed and what did he do? What was he doing? Stuck in New York unable to fight for his country, probably branded a coward by anyone who didn’t know his history. But Logan just couldn’t look away, he just couldn’t let himself come to terms with the fact that him not being there wasn’t through lack of willing. No, he would forever hate how his body had let him down and deprived him of the chance to fight for what was right, to become a hero or a martyr, to -. A voice broke him out of his black thoughts, though his reply was rather heavy. “The need outweighs the risk.” 

While 1944 New York City was nothing but busy this time of day, the lively chatter of the somewhat musty joint was enough to drown out the plethora of car honks and men yelling. Knowing his time home was dwindling, Roman had decided to take advantage of what little days he had left. After all, there was no guarantee he would come back. So, fancying himself a repose from the high life, he’d stopped by the building in the hopes of catching an old friend or two. However, when he stepped inside, the young, vibrant men that had once filled the room were replaced by older folks, all talking over one another in the hopes of being heard. The scene hadn’t been what he’d expected but neither did it surprise him. He knew where those young men were. Walking over to the empty pool table, Roman gently picked up two cue sticks. Turning around, he looked for a suitable opponent before his eyes met that of someone else. He offered out the cue. “Up for a friendly game?”

Sitting alone as he nursed his drink and bitter mood, Logan had let his eyes drift around the place. He’d seen every newcomer that walked through the doors so he was a little surprised when he saw someone closer to his own age than the rest of those present. He was even more surprised when he was asked to have a game with them. “They never really stay friendly though, do they?” He joked, giving a light chuckle before pulling  himself up off of his stool and made his way over to the other man. Feeling his limp threatening to show, Logan gritted his teeth ever so slightly, his pride kicking in as he refused to show his flaws to someone who was so clearly fit as could be. Finally, he got there and took the cue, forcing a smile to echo the laid back nature he’d once had. “But I’d say we can give it a go even if it does end up spiraling into a competition at least it’ll pass the time.” Time alone and silence, as much as he sought them out, were more and more becoming his worst enemies. Still, Logan couldn’t help but practice ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer’ a little too frequently for it to be healthy. He hated to worry Clara, as he knew he did, so this would maybe provide a distraction for a little while.

Alyssa had her eyes trained on the homeless man who now had a bounce in his step, he was halfway down the street now smiling slightly she turned to face the man who had reassured her “I know, it’s just I’ve done something similar before and he was an addict.” she remembered that day clearly “it was my first week here and I’d seen a man begging for money.I had been clearly told by my friend not to give him that money because he was an addict but I ignored him and gave him it anyway because I would have felt awful if I hadn’t, I mean what if my friend was wrong and he really did need it?. Anyway that night on my way to work I saw him and some other guy, it looked like the other guy was dealing drugs to him I could be wrong but I’m almost positive about it” she paused for a moment “I’m sorry, I’m rambling and also in your way” she moved to the side, giving him enough room to get past, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she tried to hide her embarrassment “Sorry again, you’ve probably got somewhere you need to be and I’ve just spent the last three minuets telling you about a man on drugs”

The whole way through the blonde’s story, Logan had listened intently and not just out of politeness. Usually, he was happy to give anyone the time of day - the more interactions the better as far as he was concerned - but there was something different about listening to someone who was clearly kind and well meaning. It was just a shame that her seemingly good nature had been let down but it happened. “That sort of thing happens, unfortunately, You just have to see it as something to learn from and tr not to let it stop you from helping someone else.” With an easy smile, he hoped to quell her worrying. “Don’t worry about it, I was only going to get myself a coffee. Hardly life or death and besides, sometimes it’s nice to have someone listen to you so I guess I was just trying to do that for you.”

“I doubt it,” Roman’s words were dry. He knew he was being cynical. In fact, perhaps on another day, Roman would agree that the majority of people expressing their condolences meant well but today, after what had just occurred, he was in no state of mind to do so. It was a perspective that was becoming more and more frequent for him. It seemed with each day that passed, Roman became increasingly skeptical of those around him. He found it hard to believe others without the ability to see— to read their expression. Now, the most he could do was analyze their tone. “Likewise.” At the mention of Carter, Roman paused. A brief feeling of suspicion overcame him. When it came to Carter, it was nearly instinctive for Roman to be wary of anyone who mentioned his name. It wasn’t so much because he viewed him as a friend but rather because he viewed him as a brother.  Paying close attention now, Roman gave a slow response. “I do,” he began. “Why?” 

If the man’s curt answers, barely a fraction of how much he’d been saying just minutes earlier, were anything to go by Logan had judged it just about right keeping his mouth shut for the most part. He knew his own mind was made up about things and he was pretty set in his opinions despite trying his hardest not to be. The more bitter parts of him wondered if there was much sense in him being open minded when his days were so limited but then he’d realise that that was exactly the point in being open minded. Why waste his time on the bad when he could revel in the good? “Me too but being cynical just adds to the negativity of the whole thing, trust me I know. But the I guess being cynical is easier, less disappointment that way.” Logan didn’t miss the change in the other man when he brought up Carter’s name and he couldn’t say he blamed him. As someone who had one hell of a protective streak, he wasn’t about to judge someone else for looking out for one of their own, he’d most likely be exactly the same. Still, he tried his best to give an explanation that would ease Roman’s mind a little. “Just I think we know the same person, Carter Mikkelson, right? We see each other now and then, he’s mentioned a Roman a couple of times and I just thought it was too much of a coincidence not to ask.”

“It’s not much, just enough to get you something to eat” she placed a few dollars into the homeless mans hand. She smiled as he thanked her, getting up from his place and walking away from her. “I just hope he spends it wisely” she mumbled to herself sighing, not realizing somebody was behind her and probably trying to get past.

While he had been in a bit of a hurry to get his latest caffiene fix, Logan also had patience in abundance most of the time so when a girl blocked his quickest route he had little trouble waiting for her to finish what she was doing. It was always nice to see someone taking part in a little philanthropy, so much so that when he caught the end of a sigh and her voicing her doubts he was quick to reassure her. “Hey, you did the right thing, now you’ve just got to put your faith in him to do the same.”

Her paperwork had been piling up the past few days and Cleo knew that she needed to catch up on it but she would rather do it in the comfort of her own home. Packing up, the brunette shoved her folders into her bag and shut off the light. Saying goodnight to the officer at the front desk, the detective headed out into the night. Her car was parked a few blocks away and she enjoyed the fact that it was warm for once as she walked. To say she wasn’t paying attention was an understatement as she felt herself run right into someone. 

After a long shift in the hospital, Logan’s mind was only on getting  home and finally shutting his eyes. He didn’t know whether it was just the strain of the work he did catching up to him or if it was his illness finally taking hold of his energy levels again but he was exhausted. So much so that he’d been distracted enough to bring one hand up to rub his eyes in an attempt to keep them open a little longer, causing him to walk right into someone. Putting a hand out to steady both himself and them he gave a good natured smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’re hardly the first and I doubt you’ll be the last.”