She hated him. She hated him more than she ever thought possible. He was a kook- her natural born enemy.
He didn't hate her at all. Not one bit. It couldn't have been farther from the truth. Did she know that? No- and she never would.
-
"You and I...
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Ward and Rafe had gotten home from the Bahamas two hours ago and Logan hadn't seen either of them yet. He didn't know what he'd say to Rafe, considering what their last conversation had consisted of and he still hadn't talked to his dad. If he was being completely honest, he felt like his dad was giving him space— time to blow off some steam. But in reality, that was only making him angrier.
Enough was enough. He needed to talk to one of them.
Logan got up just as a knock sounded at his door. His brow snapped together. Apparently someone had the same thought as him. He didn't say anything, causing his door to open a few inches.
Rafe stood in the doorway, his gaze darting to his younger brother. "Hey, can we talk?"
Logan swallowed hard, but nodded his head. "Yeah. How was the trip?" He asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
"Good, good." Rafe answered, pausing as he pulled the chair to Logan's desk out and sat down in it so that he was facing him. "But I...I need to tell you something."
"Okay..." Logan trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "What's going on?"
"When dad and I were in Nassau, um..." Rafe wavered, his gaze fixated on something below Logan— like he couldn't quite meet his eye. "We saw them. Sarah, she's alive."
"What?" Logan voiced, forcing a surprised look onto his face. "But she–she was dead. She survived the storm? She's okay?"
Rafe didn't say anything momentarily, a manic look flashing in his gaze. Then he lifted his head, locking onto his little brother's eyes. "She's fine."
Rafe had lied to him. He could see it in his eyes.
Logan's heart palpitated in his chest, despite the relieved expression he painted on his face. "So she's coming home then?"
"I don't know. I just thought you should know." Rafe sent him a smile, only furthering his discomfort. "And I, uh...I wanted to say that I was sorry— for pushing you away. I've been–I've been a pretty shitty brother the past couple years and that's–that's my fault. I realize that now and now that we've lost Sarah to the Pogues, I–I don't want to lose you too."
Logan shook his head. "Rafe, I know you think it's your fault, but it's because of dad. He's always compared us. It's bullshit."
"I know. I know. I just," He paused, his eyes glazing over. "I know you don't remember mom, but I do. I was eight; I remember everything. Something in dad changed when she died and suddenly I needed to step up. I needed to do better." He lifted his head, sorrow etched behind his gaze. "You look like her and you're just like her, Loge. Just like her. That's why I pushed you away; that's why dad put you to a higher standard. I mean, shit. I'm nothing like either of you. I should–I shouldn't have pushed you away. And I'm sorry."
