Dignity

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</noinclude>

"YOU," hisses Jack, hands going for Logan's neck.

Logan, eyes massive, quails oh dear god is Jack's hand wet please say it's water wet pleasepleaseplease—

"Where. Are. They."

Logan inadvertently glances at The Kitchen Cupboard.

Jack twists around, twists back, eyes blazing.

Logan swallows.

Jack shoves Logan away, stalks toward the kitchen.

Logan dives for the washroom, finds his flat keys, makes a break for it.

Twelve seconds later, Logan hears footsteps pounding down the hall after him.

Logan flies down the stairs.

Jack does, too.

Logan slams from the building.

"/**I AM GONNA FUCKING MURDER YOU!**"

Logan hightails it for the nearest train station.

.

Logan stumbles to Blossom and Bubbles' flat, hollow-eyed.

"Ohmigosh, Buttercup, are you okay?" says Bubbles.

Blossom leads him gently and quickly to a chair, sits him down.

It's not until Blossom and Bubbles have joined him with tea that the words come out in a low, scared voice:

"I walked in on my brother having sex."

Bubbles gets a faceful of Blossom Nose tea while her shirt becomes a nice shade of brown.

.

Logan creeps back in the next morning to find Jack flat on his face on his bed, possibly not breathing.

Logan supposes he should check on him out of brotherly loyalty.

Logan tiptoes in, skin crawling at the colourful packets on the floor, and nudges Jack's calf.

Jack grunts.

"Isn't the chick supposed to be here?"

Jack makes a dying sound.

"Guessing it didn't go so well."

Jack drags his head up. "And I can't even blame you."

"Huge relief, much appreciated."

.

Jackson jogs forward, gets the door to the building.

"Thank you, Jackson," says Ms Primrose.

"You're welcome," says Jackson, offering his arm.

"Why thank you, dear."

They start up the stairs.

"Did you hear that racket the other night?"

"Racket—" Jackson clears his throat. "What racket?"

"Something of an argument between two young men. At least a threat, in any event."

"Uh, yea, I think I heard some of that."

"I do hope ruffians aren't moving in. I would hate to see this neighbourhood fall into such a poor state."

"No-no need to worry about that, Ms Primrose," Jackson assures.

"Oh?"

"Was my brother and me—"

"'My brother and /**I**. Really, Jackson, you're a professional young man."

Jackson ducks his head. "My brother and I had an argument."

She tsks. "Brothers shouldn't fight, Jackson."

"He took something of mine and I lost my temper."

"Still, Jackson." A pause. "What did he take?"

"Some ... things from the washroom," Jackson mumbles, "and my dignity."

"I'm surprised. Your brother seems like such a nice young man. Hard to imagine someone like him stealing."

"That's, uh, that's Derek for you. My other brother, though ...."

"You have two brothers?"

"Yea—" Jackson clears his throat. "Yes, I do. They look alike, except for the age difference. 's Logan who I had the problem with."

"You'll have to introduce us the next time he visits."

Jackson erps. "I'm not sure that's a good—"

"Jackson, dear, I was a school librarian in my younger days." A glint in her eye. "I know how to put the fear in someone."

"I may take you up on that," Jackson smiles.