NYSM •Moments In Time•

Moment #4

((WARNING! ⚠ NYSM2 SPOILERS!))

Logan woke normally, realizing that it wasn't a bad dream that woke her at two o'clock in the morning. Her heart wasn't normally racing when she was scared, and she actually felt well rested. She sat up, yawning out of instinct and stretching her joints before climbing out of bed and into the hallway of the Horsemen's new home, the Eye's headquarters underneath an observatory in London. Her cold feet creaked against the floorboards as she quietly walked past the other Horsemen's rooms, hearing the faint sound of the TV still on in Merritt's quarters. They had barely lived here for a month, and barely any of their things were unpacked, but it instantly felt like home.

So Logan knew something was wrong in the atmosphere. The air felt different; heavy. She checked the kitchen to find it dark and empty. The other rooms she had checked all had the same results until she got to the library and quietly tried her best to open the doors.

Not quiet enough as Dylan hears it right away. He tilts his head up from staring down at his drink from what felt like hours. He sees Logan shut the door behind her then turns to see the reason she had woken up. She observes the scene of Dylan sitting sprawled out over the vintage styled furniture, neck tie loose and hanging over his shoulders with his white dress shirt rustled and not tucked into his belt. His remaining haircut looked insane as the gray and silver of his salt and pepper color shined in the dim, warm light coming from a small lamp: the only light source in the dark library.

"Hey," she whispers, surprised to see Dylan here.

"Hey." Dylan swishes the alcohol in the glass he barely held by his fingertips, "Couldn't sleep?"

Logan shakes her head in response, moving to stand at the window from across the room, "Why are you awake?"

Dylan shrugs, his gaze roaming to the coffee table in front of him, finding it more interesting at the moment, "I wanted a drink."

She only nods, knowing full well the bull shit behind that answer but didn't push it. She crossed her arms over her chest while staring outside.

Dylan finds himself hating the silence, and the heaviness in his chest proves his theory of wanting to talk to someone. He's kept this feeling in for years, and he needed to express it to someone, even though it wasn't to a professional. Logan would do.

"Thirty years..." Her head turns to his voice, but his eyes don't meet hers. He just chuckles sarcastically while taking another sip of his drink, "Thirty years ago, when I was twelve years old, I lost my father. I felt the pain behind the loss of a parent...a feeling no child should have to feel at that age."

Logan nods, her lips forming a small frown as she continued to listen to his rambling, "Thirty years ago I decided on spending the rest of my life trying to get revenge on the man I blamed to have killed my father. Thirty wasted years...of planning, scheming, anything that no one should do while growing up. I never went to zoos, I didn't play video games, I was a loner at school, I didn't go to parties or prom, my whole life revolved around getting revenge and I didn't stop for a second to smell the roses."

"You didn't give yourself any time to mourn for your father's death, didn't you?"

Dylan looks up to meet Logan's gaze staring right at him, an eyebrow raised as she questioned him, and all he could do was shake his head.

She nods in understanding, finally on the same page as Dylan, "That's why you're like this. You're finally mourning."

"I don't expect you to understand." He wasn't intentionally making it come out rude, but despite that he immediately wanted to take it back. He looks back up at her to see her looking away.

"I do," she whispered, "My brother ran away when I was six...my mother killed herself a year later."

If Dylan processed this through his drunken state, he made no motion to her about it. Logan finds herself thinking about the past year, feeling Dylan's sad feeling rub off her as she thought about her personal losses, and she sighs heavily while staring outside,

"They say the pain eventually goes away...And I know it's only been a year but so far it hasn't managed to escape me." She speaks like she's talking mostly to herself, in which Dylan realizes something.

She lost Henley.

And it was there for the very first time, Dylan thoroughly looked over Logan. The yellow glow of the streetlight outside painted across her skin, making her seem warm and inviting under that tired façade. Her hair was a mess and laid across one shoulder, her arms and legs crossed over her tight shirt and PJ leggings. In his slightly drunk, tired and unfair mind, he realized she was beautiful.

He raised a glass to her, silently inviting her to join him. She crosses the room to him, sitting beside him as he poured her a drink and slowly handed it to her. She sinks into the couch cushions, sighing while leaning against his shoulder and holding her drink in her hands.

"Oh, that reminds me," she leans away again to dig into her pocket, remembering when she goes to sleep, she always brought a charm with her to keep the nightmares away.

Dylan watches as she dug out an old, battered card. It was torn and stained in parts of it and he examined it to be the Queen of Hearts. Finally, he realizes the signature written over the print looked strangely familiar, and he swore his heart stopped.

"Figured your father would have wanted you to have this," Logan almost forces the card into Dylan's num fingers, and both pairs of eyes watch it instinctively, "I was mourning when Shrike gave that to me. It would only make sense that I give this to you now." She smiles while watching the card dance over Dylan's rugged fingers, her arms curling around his in a tight embrace and she finds this position comfortable enough to sleep in.

Dylan finds himself smiling, despite all efforts not to. Fate brought his father's missing card back to him, and maybe it was fate that the card would have come from Logan of all people. He had lost a father, but he had gained so much more from it.

"Thank you," he whispered.