06 February 2009 @ 10:36 pm

Bloody.  Head.  Hurts.  Can’t remember a damn thing about the past 24 hours, and honestly that was the goal, so mission sodding accomplished.  Give yourself a pat on the back, Johnnie boy, job well done.

Of course, if I’d managed to keep my mouth shut I wouldn’t have to put up with the elephants doing the tarantella.  …Alright, so maybe the past 24 hours aren’t blocked out quite as nicely as I’d like.  I can fix that later, when there’s not a pretty blonde giving me coffee.  Always was a sucker for blondes.  Which doesn’t really explain Jack, but that’s not the point.

And anyway, I’m fairly sure I managed to bollocks things up with Jack pretty bad this time, so let’s /not/ dwell on the things I’m trying to block out, shall we?

Goddess, I need more alcohol.

It’s all Sarah’s fault for giving me that instant sober shite.  Got little enough self control on a good day, being completely miserable ‘cos I’m cold sober tends not to help things.  Particularly not when Gray’s on the loose.  No, only makes things that much more frustrating ‘cos when it comes to Gray I’ve got no control over things.  None at all.  So what do I do?  Lash out.  ‘Course I do, only makes sense.  Can’t control what you want so you control what you can, textbook psych.  Spent enough time in psych eval, tends to stick after a while.

Doesn’t matter that everything I said was completely true.  Well, all the particularly nasty stuff, anyway.  One of the things you learn about lying is that a well-placed truth can do more damage than the worst lie you could come up with.  ‘Cos lying requires imagination, truth is black and white.  No arguing with facts, they just are, plain and simple.  You can tear people apart way more effectively, and quicker, if they’re made to confront their darker side than you could ever do with the sharpest laserknife.

Of course…Then you get the feeling afterward that maybe you shouldn’t’ve said it.  Like now.  At the time it didn’t matter; all I wanted was to hurt ‘em as badly as I could, spread the misery around.  Like Jack said, didn’t care who I hurt so long as it accomplished the goal.  And oh, did it ever.  Ripped his heart out but good, I did. 

And if it were anyone else I wouldn’t care.  I’d be clear to the other side of the galaxy by now, off doing fun things, not having to worry about some lunatic tracking me down again ‘cos he’s got my number and marked me out as his best in.  Actually…would make sense to get out o’ town now I’ve got a chance, wouldn’t it.  Can’t get to Jack and the rest without his unwilling mole, now can ‘e?  Go far, far away, far as I can, let him find another way in.  ‘Cos we all know how the story of Cain and Abel ends.  Jack may not be able to die, but I’m sure Gray could find a way ‘round it.  And if not…well, he’s certainly got his pick of suitable targets, hasn’t he?

And now the levels’re getting a bit too close to normal for comfort.  Didn’t want to think about it, sort of the point of drinking yourself unconscious.  Or near enough, anyway.  Considering I woke up glued to a couch, I’d say it was fairly close.  And before you start in on my habits, no, that’s not a normal occurrence.  Got the aforementioned blonde to thank for it, actually.  ….And Jack.  …And the fact that I tend to have an affinity for textures when I’m plastered enough.  And you can just stop your judging, alright?  The point is that the nagging voice is back, the one that’s slowly started to get louder ever since I let myself get pulled into this mess again.  The one that says I’m in the wrong and need to go apologise and accept the consequences for taking off like that before it’s too late.  And I hate it, ‘cos it goes against everything I am – I don’t regret, I don’t apologise, and I certainly don’t willingly accept consequences, unless it’s a game and ends in someone getting thoroughly fucked.  And I hate it ‘cos there’s nothing to apologise for, far as I’m concerned; Jack’s the one who always puts his brother first, the one who’s made all our lives miserable time and time again.  Can’t expect me not to get annoyed at playing second fiddle to the mass murderer.  But mostly…


                …I hate it ‘cos it’s right.


Doesn’t mean I’m gonna go crawling back just like that though, I’ve got my pride.





Current Location: Malfoy Manor, apparently
Current Mood: crappy