Current mood:

sleepy

Fic: These Empty Hands, Part 2 (L/V, T/V, Weevil, Hannah), R
Title: These Empty Hands, Part 2
Author: rubie_so_ho
Word Count: 6,214
Rating: R - mostly language
Pairing/Characters: Logan/Veronica, Troy/Veronica, Weevil, Hannah
Summary: Veronica deals with the aftermath of her drunken evening. Logan faces an uncertain future.
Spoilers: up to 2x13. Also, slight spoiler of 2x16...after 2x13, though - futurefic.
Disclaimer: they belong to Rob T.!
Notes: This is a second part to my first fic. Comments are appreciated!

These Empty Hands, Part 1


Veronica blinked her eyes slowly, disoriented. Where am I? Why is it so bright? Why does it feel like Wallace and the Neptune High Basketball team are dribbling basketballs on my skull? She groaned, shifting back and forth. Looking about her, her eyes beginning to focus, she saw she was lying in her own bed. Well, thank God for small favors. Certainly an upgrade from a back room at Shelley Pomeroy's. As the heels of her hands sank into the mattress about her, she looked down, realizing she was still fully clothed in the outfit that she'd worn the previous evening. Veronica sighed. I cannot believe I drank that much. At Chez Casablancas, no less. Little Dick will never let this one go. Stretching her legs out to stand on the floor, she moaned loudly. I. am. so. friggin. sore. So THIS is what hungover feels like. She placed her fingers on her throbbing temples and shuffled out to the hallway.

Keith was sitting in his favorite armchair, reading a book while a Sharks hockey game played on the muted television.

"A little early for multitasking, isn't it Dad?" Veronica mumbled, squinting in the light streaming through the front windows of the apartment.

"Ha! Early?" Keith grinned at his one and only daughter. "Check your sun dial, honey. It's nearly 2 p.m."

Veronica groaned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "2? PM?"

"Yes, sleeping beauty. Well, not so much a beauty this fine AFTERNOON. While you are checking your trusty sun dial, you should also check the mirror."

"I don't even want to know."

"Yeah, maybe that's best." Keith winked.

"So...I guess you want to know why I look..." Veronica began.

"And smell..."

"...like ass?" Her shoulders slumped, feeling humiliated. She braced herself for the worst.

"Oh, I know," Keith said, not looking up from his book. "Troy dropped you off. YOU told me you did the night up Lianne-style."

Shit.

Keith chuckled. "It's okay, Ms. Mars. I'm letting you off the hook." She peered at him inquisitively, and he looked up from his book when his words failed to elicit a response. "You were pretty upset last night. You don't deserve to be grounded. At least this time - you get a get free out of jail card."

"Upset?" God dammit, what did I say?

"Yes, honey. After Troy dropped you off, you were muttering something about a Hannah? Oh yes, and rum. Definitely rum." Keith was enjoying this. He could hardly contain his laughter. The mortified look on his daughter's face was his best reward in ages. If Little Dick wasn't going to let this go for a long time, Keith Mars wasn't going to let it go until he was six feet under.

Veronica's toes curled at the mention of Hannah's name. Though she could not remember all that she had said the previous night, she recalled all the faces and images. She vaguely remembered dancing up a storm with Mac on the couch, with Troy and Beaver looking on dotingly. She recalled Wallace and Jane, seemingly laughing at her. Boy, I must have been a showboat last night. She started piecing the events together bit by bit. Jacket. Door. Upside down over Troy's shoulder. Den of sin. Little Dick. Hannah, sleeping. Logan.

Keith watched his daughter's face, as it looked like she was adding complex numbers in her head. Her eyes darted back and forth, as if she was following a play. All of a sudden, he saw a look of dreaded recognition behind her sweet blue eyes. Her cheeks filled with blood, and she slowly slid down the side of the kitchen counter and to the floor.

"Honey?" Keith looked, curious and concerned.

Oh. My. Dear. God.

"Veronica? Earth to Mars?"

Holy fuck.

Keith bent down next to her, and put his hand to her cheek. It burned under his palm. His touch seemed to wake her up, and her eyes snapped to his. "Oh Dad. Hey. Yeah. I'm fine. I need to get ready for....for something. Shower time!" She jumped up like a flash, and ran to the bathroom.

Keith rocked back on his heels, befuddled. His daughter was a complex conundrum. He shook his head, and returned back to his chair, turning up the Sharks game.

+++

Veronica locked the bathroom door, and placed her hands on either side of the pedestal sink. She stared hard at herself in the bathroom mirror, her nose inches from the glass. Her eyes were still tired from sleep, and there were lines on her face from the creases in her sheets. Her hair was askew, and sticking up high in the back. She bored deeply into her own eyes, and her realization had darkened them into a precise midnight blue.

“I told Logan I love him.”

She watched her own mouth form the words, slowly. The syllables dripped like warm molasses and her brain moved in slow motion. She leaned her forehead against the mirror, touching it with its counterpart.

I’m the biggest idiot that ever lived. I’m clueless. I’m hopeless. Logan has a new girlfriend…well, new “girlfriend.” And I just told him I’m in love with him. I want to die.

She lifted her head and looked up to the ceiling. “Dear God, kill me now.”

+++

What seemed like hours – but was only a matter of minutes – later, Veronica was soaking in steaming hot water in the tub. She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her damp hair hung in chunky strands around her face, and a few solid tears slipped from her eyes, over her knees and mingled into the tub water. She felt like a fool.

Logan had been awful the weeks before their breakup. The community pool, and various other pranks against the 02ers with his toady friends…she’d had enough. He’d been acting more and more like the obligatory psychotic jackass of yesteryear; the only difference was, he wasn’t a jackass to her. Veronica knew she had made the right decision by breaking up with Logan. She wanted normalcy; she wanted sensitivity. And at the time, Logan’s love just wasn’t enough.

She left Logan, and ran towards normalcy with her eyes closed and her arms wide open. When her eyes reopened, there Duncan was, his strong arms wrapped around her own, shielding her from the world. Things started shifting back to how they were before Lilly died. It was Duncan and Veronica, all butterfly kisses and bear hugs. Sitting in front of the TV cuddling, watching a movie. Having quiet candlelit dinners. It all seemed…perfect. But then it all came crashing down around her ears.

At first, she blamed Duncan. She blamed Meg. She blamed baby Lilly. She blamed Duncan’s secrets and lies.

But now, in her tub, soaking all the hydration out of her body…she blamed herself.

She was so busy trying to be the old Veronica, loving Veronica’s old boyfriend, and living Veronica’s old life.

But I’m not that girl anymore.

She was so busy looking toward normalcy that she didn’t realize what a good thing she’d had.

Logan was a bad influence. Logan was trouble. He was everything that Duncan wasn’t.

But with the bad comes the good. If only Logan grew up, if only he’d stop acting like an ignorant jerk.

I do love him. I have from the moment on the Camelot’s balcony. I’ve never stopped, not once.

But there’s nothing I can do about it.

+++

Logan laid in his bed and looked up on the ceiling, looking at how the brush strokes in the plaster ran into one another. He’d been laying like this for hours; he’d woken up at 11 a.m., stumbled into the suite’s kitchen for a bowl of dry cereal, and toted the bowl with him into his bedroom. He still occupied the smaller bedroom in the suite, although now he lived alone. He couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in Duncan’s bed. He missed his best friend, and thought of it as a sign of disrespect. On the other hand, it didn’t help that it was the lair of Duncan and Veronica’s lust. Or lack thereof.

Logan felt a tingle run through his chest when he thought of Veronica. He pushed the thought quickly out of his mind, but he knew this move wouldn’t be successful for long. He’d pushed Veronica out of his head about a hundred times before while laying in bed for the past…how many hours?

He lurched over to his right side and peered at his alarm clock. 3:45 p.m. ??? Okay, I’m lazier than I ever thought I could be. And I’m not even hungover.

Though I’m sure Veronica is.

His mind drifted back again to Veronica, inevitably. When he’d arrived home the night before, after dropping a sleepy Hannah off at the House that Liposuction Built, he was still dumbfounded. It had been like a wrecking ball had come out of the oblivion and socked him in his gut. He felt a pain that he could taste like copper in the back of his throat. When he’d come back to the suite, he dropped onto the white leather couch and had stared at the powered-off TV, his mouth twisted in a question mark. When he’d looked down at his cell phone clock, finally, he realized he’d sat in front of the blank screen for 2 hours; it was around 4 o’clock in the morning. Realizing he had to get some sleep, or at least attempt to, he got up to stumble to bed. After a few steps, he froze in his tracks. He stood in front of the open doors of the master suite, and, staring at the pristine pillows on Duncan’s vacant bed, his shoulders fell into a deep slump. He remained still there for a moment, his fingers running along the door joint. Logan slinked off to bed at last, and, despite the million thoughts running through his head, he had fallen fast asleep when his head hit the pillow.

So there Logan laid, Saturday afternoon, his heart beat thumping into his fingertips. He lifted his throbbing digits to his face, and stared.

She’d been right here. In my hands. Right in my grasp. She was like some fiery angel – an aura lit about her face and hair like some inner light trying to escape out, but fire burned within her skin, under my hands. The tears that ran down her face and onto her bitten lip burned sad lines down her face.
She was in. my. hands.

And then – she was gone – with the night, and with Troy. Drunk and sad. Logan laughed at the thought of funny, drunk Veronica. The very next split second, he pouted. She was so beautiful, so wonderful, but… She’s not mine. She hasn’t been, not for a long time.

It’s fine that she said she loves me. Just fine. She’ll wake up today and she’ll have forgotten. It was a fluke.

Logan jumped off his bed and headed into the shower. He had plans to meet Hannah at 6 for a diner out on the town. Can’t be late for the Princess. He turned the water on, and leaned back against the cool tile.

+++

Veronica decided to get out into the fresh air, after her booze headache faded away, with the help of about a gallon of water and four aspirin. She attached Backup’s leash to his collar, threw on her favorite green sweatshirt, and headed out to her car. When she and Backup arrived at Dog Beach, they’d only walked along the edge of the water for fifteen minutes when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out, slowly, afraid of who it would be.

Troy.

She sighed and smiled wanly, flipping her phone open. “Hi Troy.”

“And how is my favorite booze hound? How is she?” Troy gushed in a schmoopy voice. Veronica couldn’t help but giggle. Troy sure did seem to retain his sense of humor, despite his twisted past.

“Finally recovered.” She said, shortly. She wasn’t really sure what else to say. She did not recall whether Troy heard her profess her love to Logan; she did not know what she’d said on the ride home. All she had remembered about the ride home was an overwhelming sense of melancholy.

“Good good. Well I wanted to see if you wanted to go out to a late dinner tonight. I’m thinking seafood. Yummmm…” Troy automatically made fish sound appealing.

Veronica felt at first that she shouldn’t go, like she was betraying someone or something. Oh snap out of it, Mars! You don’t even have a boyfriend right now. You’re not betraying jack.

“Sure!” she said brightly.

There was a pause on the other end for a moment, as if Troy couldn’t believe his ears. When he finally realized his good fortune, she could practically see his smile through the telephone. He started to say something, but she was distracted. She looked ahead of her, out toward the shore to the North. She thought she saw a familiar figure, tall and foreboding. She strained to see around the people on the crowded beach, but her short stature prevented her from seeing her focal point. All of a sudden, like a theatre curtain, the crowd parted. It was like a scene from a dream – or was it the past? She refocused her eyes and saw a young man, with broad shoulders and short dark hair. He wore a green sweater and baggy khakis. Her heart surged, looking up toward his face…and then it fell, as she realized she looked into the eyes of a stranger. The young man looked at her in the eye, like she was crazy, and kept walking toward the water line. It looked like him, it did…or maybe I imagined him, like some fucked-up mirage.

“…and so I thought I could pick you up at 8, and you’d better wear something hot. Deali-o?”

Troy’s voice came back to her and she felt guilty. How long had he been talking?

She let a long, low breath slip between her teeth. “That sounds great, Vandegraff. Come by at 8.”

She hung up, and slipped her phone back into her hoodie pocket. She wrapped Backup’s leash one time around her small hand, and tugged him back toward the parking lot.

+++

Logan was on his way to Hannah’s when he remembered he’d promised to call her when he was en route. With his left hand on the steering wheel, he reached into the console of the Xterra for his phone. He dialed the number under “Princess” and furrowed his brow as the phone rang.

Hannah picked up on the third ring. “Hi.” She sounded curt, and quiet. Logan raised one eyebrow. She doesn’t sound like her normal, bubbly self. Hm.

“Hey Fairy Princess. I’m heading over to your house.”

“Okay.”

“You ready?”

“Sure.”

Hannah sounded strange over the phone, but Logan couldn’t pinpoint the emotion in her voice. He couldn’t pinpoint any feeling at all. Ah, women.

He flipped his phone shut after their goodbyes and exited the PCH. After winding through the streets of a mansion-filled neighborhood, he pulled into the Griffiths’ circular driveway and parked. Bouncing out of the car, he strode quickly to the door and rang the bell.

Logan was examining the tip of his shoe when the door swung open. Before he could look up, a hand grasped at his shirt and yanked him into the house, while shutting the door, all in one swift movement.
The same hand shoved Logan up against the door and he felt hot breath against his face.

Why, hello Nip/Schmuck. Nice to see you too.

Dr. Griffith sneered into Logan’s face, and Logan detected the faint scent of bourbon. “You little shit. How fucking dare you? What are you doing with my fucking daughter?”

Logan tried to appear the picture of serene calm. He knew this would have come eventually. He just didn’t realize it would happen so soon. He’d figured that Griffith would stew for a while before bargaining with Logan to keep his little girl’s flower intact in return for a recant about the night on the bridge. Guess he likes himself a little preemptive strike.

Logan allowed his lip to curl into a wicked smile. He peered over Dr. Griffith’s shoulder, attracted by a whimpering sound. Behind Griffith, on the steps, was Hannah. Her tear-streaked face was flushed and blotchy, and she was breathing hard through her mouth. Her lips were trembling, and she looked tired and scared. She uttered not a word, however, and put her head in her hands to avoid looking at Logan.

“Get your fucking dirty hands off of me, you carver,” Logan spat, his teeth inches away from Griffith’s.

Surprisingly, the good doctor backed up, and removed the hand that had been firmly placed on Logan’s chest. Logan spoke up again, as Griffith seemed at a loss for words.

“I didn’t do anything with your daughter. I was just…showing her a good time.” Griffith’s eyes flashed at Logan’s suggestive tone, and he raised his open hand to slap Logan across the face. Logan threw his arm up, and caught Griffith by the wrist. “Grasshopper too slow for kung fu master…” he sneered as his best friend’s words echoed in his mouth. He laughed a low, guttural laugh that resounded in his chest. He felt good, powerful.

Until a hard, graveled voice rang in his ears.

“Well, top of the day to you, son.”

Liam Fitzpatrick stood above Hannah on the stairs, with a gun leveled to Logan’s head.

+++

Veronica was humming along to a song on the radio in Troy’s beemer. “I like this song. It has a good beat.” She started singing a few bars.

Troy grinned at her from the driver’s seat. He looked fresh and clean in dark jeans and a crisp button-down. Her voice floated through the car, and he gasped a little. “Well, who knew Ms. Veronica Mars was a regular Celine Dion?”

Veronica cringed. “Ew. Celine? Are you kidding me? I was going for more of a sultry Joss Stone.” Troy chuckled and her ordinance. “And anyway, you must not have talked to the Tritons lately. They worship the songstress in me.”

“As well they should. Or anything in you. I especially like this finger.” He caught her hand and kissed the tip of her pinky.

Veronica blushed wildly, and felt somewhat uncomfortable. She still felt an attraction to Troy, but her words to Logan resounded in her ears. She smiled nervously, and ducked her head so he wouldn’t see the uncertain look on her face. Troy slowed down the car at that point, and she realized they were at the restaurant. She peered out the window at the warm-looking establishment; there were Christmas lights strung around trellises and votive candles on the outside tables. She smiled to herself and became more relaxed. Oh, forget Logan. Just have fun tonight. They exited the car, and Veronica pressed her palm against Troy’s as they waltzed into the restaurant, as if on a cloud.

As they were getting seated, Veronica felt her phone vibrate against her leg. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she apologized to Troy. “I normally wouldn’t get this, but Dad flew out of town on a last-minute job a few hours ago.” Troy shook his head, and motioned for her to answer. She winked at him and flipped the phone open without looking at the number on the caller ID.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Well hello, little girl.”

Veronica’s eyes clouded over with concern. This was an unfamiliar voice. It was hard, and at the same time, it sounded maniacal.

”Who is this?” Veronica chewed the words out, her voice rising with urgency. “Tell me who this is. Now.”

“It’s your daddy.”

“Right. Who the fuck is this?” Veronica rarely dropped the f-bomb, and Troy knew this. He edged forward in his chair, his chin wrinkled with confusion. His eyes were question marks, and he reached across the table to lay his hand on Veronica’s free hand. Veronica withdrew her hand quickly, and Troy frowned, leaning far back into his chair.

“It doesn’t really matter who I am. I’m just a messenger.”

“Oh yeah, asshole? And what’s your message?” Veronica practically choked on her words.

“Logan Echolls dies tonight. You have a lovely evening.” The phone went dead.

Veronica stared at the table as the bile began to rise in her throat.

+++

Logan gulped. He looked around, but saw nothing. His eyes felt glazed over, like there was a layer of film over them. Isn’t your life supposed to flash before your eyes? he wondered. His breathing became more belabored. He tried hard to think, to squeeze visions of Lilly, his mother, Duncan, Trina into his head. Their faces all ran together, and he couldn’t locate how any of them looked. The most important people in his life, and he couldn’t picture them. All he could see was Veronica. He felt like crying.

Dr. Griffith moved away from Logan and from the door. Hannah remained on the step, curled up against the wall. Logan stared at her, and she looked as though she wanted to melt into the drywall. I don’t blame you, Princess. I would melt away with you if I could.

Liam approached Logan, calculatedly, with the pistol still leveled straight to his head. Logan noticed that Liam didn’t shake the way Logan did the day at the River Stix. He was used to this – he was a hardened criminal. Logan pushed his tongue against his teeth hard, hoping to feel pain. He was completely numb, and felt paralyzed.

“Stupid little rich boy. What did you think was going to happen with the good doctor’s baby girl? Did you think he was going to crumble? Did you forget his formidable connections?” Liam seemed to hiss these last few words, and they slid craftily through his teeth.

“Look man, I’m…I’m sorry. I-I…didn’t think. I just…didn’t think.” Logan shuddered.

“Yeah, you have a long history of that huh? Trying to jump off the Coronado Bridge? Pointing your dinky gun at me in my bar trying to save your little snoop of a girlfriend?”

Logan’s eyes shifted to Hannah’s. She got quiet for a moment, and Logan saw the lightbulb go off in her brain. All of a sudden, he knew she realized his entire plan. I guess your father didn’t fully explain…but he’s such a mensch !

Logan felt a surge of courage. He wasn’t sure what it was; but the last thought that crossed his mind before he spoke was the thought of Veronica, thrown across a pool table, with Liam’s hand clamped around her throat and a tattoo needle buzzing in her ear. The fear in her eyes hit it home.

“Look. You know why I did this. You know. You - you smug bastard - ” he pointed at Griffith, who had been silent for the past few minutes “were not on the bridge the night Felix Toombs was killed. I saw a different guy. And I know you’re wrapped up with these crazy Irish motherfuckers.” His heart beat faster. Wow, I am a poor little rich boy with a death wish. I just insulted my assailant while his gun is pointed right between my eyes. “I don’t really know who’s behind all this, or why, but I know this. I didn’t kill Felix. Griffith was not there. One of you schmucks is setting me up. At this point, I don’t care who, but if I survive tonight, I’m going to make you fucking pay.”

He didn’t know why he was so brash. Yes, I’m crazy. I’m going to die now. This is great.

“You little bitch. You will never get the opportunity. Instead,” Liam grinned a toothy, crazed smile, “you’re going to meet your maker. And you’ll see Mommy and Lilly Kane on the way.”

Liam cocked the pistol, and Logan closed his eyes.

+++

Veronica sat, frozen for a moment. She held her breath.

Troy was wild with confusion and anger. “Who the hell was that? What did they say? Veronica. Veronica!” He walked around the table, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her.

She didn’t even look at him. She rose quickly, her napkin falling to the floor. Grabbing her purse, she ran outside. Troy shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. Throwing bills on the table, he followed after her. By the time he made it outside, she was nowhere to be seen. “What the…?” He shook his head a few times, and blinked, hoping that when he reopened his eyes for the umpteenth time, Veronica would be in front of him, waiting for him.

He turned to the valet boy and asked if he’d seen a small blonde.

“Yeah, she jumped into a cab that was waiting here. Gone – like the wind.”

Troy licked his lips and realized she was gone. He’d lost her completely this time.

+++

Veronica arrived at her apartment complex and immediately slid into the driver’s seat of the Le Baron. She revved her engine and peeled out of the parking lot. Her eyes were sore, and she felt a lump in her throat. She couldn’t think. She just drove. She swerved about, and after nearly cutting a Mack truck off, she slowed down and tried to regain composure. That’s me – calm, cool, and collected. The love of my life is going to die tonight. But I’m Joe Cool.

An idea popped into her head, and she flipped her phone out. Hitting “5” on the speed dial, she sighed loudly. “Come on, come on, come on. Pick up. Pick UP.”

“Yo. You’ve reached Weevil Navarro. Leave one.” The beep rang in her ears. “Fuck it, Weevil, fuck it!” Weevil answered her calls all the time. Why wasn’t he answering now? “When I need a measly part for the Le Baron, you answer. But when I need you to help me save Logan from following Lilly to the grave, you conveniently turn your phone off. Ahhhhhh!” She screamed. She can’t remember the last time she screamed. The sound bounced around in her ribcage. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “NO.” she said to herself, in the car. “No. I will not let him die.”
She pulled off the highway sharply. “Time to pay Thumper a visit.”

+++

Logan’s eyes were closed. It felt like minutes had passed, but there were mere milliseconds. All of a sudden, he heard a resounding scream, and his eyes sprang open. He didn’t even hear the shot as it rung out, echoing in the cathedral ceilings of the McMansion. He gasped, and clutched his chest.

His heart was racing in his ears. He could hear it: thud thud thud thud.

Why don’t I feel any pain?

Maybe I’m already dead.

I’m gone, I’m slipping away.

And I didn’t even tell V. that I love her.


Logan looked at Hannah. She looked horrified, her mouth frozen into a large “O.” He began to weep bitterly, looking at the girl he used. Yeah, I’m a fucking idiot. Well, at least I’ve been punished for my misdeeds. He looked down at his chest.

There was no blood.

There were no holes.

He looked up at Hannah again. Her eyes weren’t leveled on him. They were looking at Liam.

Liam Fitzpatrick stood before Logan, his eyes flung wide open. He looked like a cartoon, still, with his eyes bugged out and his mouth twisted in a permanent sneer.

And that’s when Logan saw.

A single drop of blood slip down Liam’s cheek from his left temple.

And then, a gush of blood flowed from that point, and blood began to pour from his mouth.

Logan fell to his knees, saying a silent prayer to God.

His mouth went dry. He looked to his left, and Griffith was curled, cowling in the corner.

Logan swiveled his attention to the right. There, in the doorway between the den and the foyer, stood one Eli Navarro. In his hand was the gun Dick Casablancas, Sr. had given Logan.

Logan exhaled. “Weevil.”

“Echolls.”

Weevil brushed past Hannah, and then Logan. At that moment, as if a gust of wind knocked him over, Liam Fitzpatrick fell to the floor. His chest did not rise with breath. Weevil placed a gloved finger on Liam’s pulse point. He nodded, shortly. Logan swallowed. Liam was dead.

Weevil crossed the room to Griffith. “If you, or your little girl, breathe a word of this to anyone, you will be done. If it gets back to the Fitzpatricks what happened here today, you will wished you never set up a chop-shop in this hellhole of a town.”

This isn’t gonna work. Logan thought. The Fitzpatricks are going to come after Weevil and I and we’ll be deader than dead.

But at that moment, he saw something in Griffith’s eyes. He was staring at his daughter, with fear and love in his eyes. Something snapped in his head, like a rubber band. He peered up at Weevil, and then back at his daughter. “Hannah.” Hannah nodded at the sound of her name. “We’re leaving Neptune. Pack. Now.”

Dr. Tom Griffith had finally had enough of Neptune, he’d had enough of the Fitzpatricks, and he’d had enough of the Felix Toombs murder mystery.

As Hannah climbed the stairs frantically, without looking back at Logan, Tom Griffith told Logan and Weevil who killed Felix Toombs.

+++

Veronica arrived at Thumper’s house. She’d looked him up on her Sidekick. Technology is seriously my lifesaver. Mental note: worship at the temple of the technology gods. Or at least at Mac’s feet.

She rapped on the door with a staccato beat. Her knuckles were cold and white, and she shook from the top of her head to the ends of her toes. He’s not gone yet. You know he’s not. He’s alive.

Thumper appeared at the door.

“Hello, Eduardo,” she spat.

“Hello Miss Veronica Mars. I’m guessing you’ve heard about Logan. You here for some rebound sex?”

Veronica slapped him across the face, soundly, and hard.

“Don’t you fucking say his name, you jackass.”
“Ooh, those are big words for such a little girl.”

“You tell me where he’s at. Or I will end you.”

“He’s burning in hell, with that whore Lilly Kane. He’s gone, chica. Gone like the wind.”

Veronica spun on her heel, not wanting to look in his face.

“Go home, little girl!” Thumper called after her.

In a daze, Veronica drove.

+++

Weevil and Logan sped off in Logan’s Xterra.

“How’d you get here? How’d you know? What the FUCK just happened?” Logan could barely get his words out. He was yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Chill, white boy. Just chill.”

Logan tried to slow his breath. He placed his hand over his hard and pressed hard, as if the pressure would settle his wildly beating heart down.

Weevil unfurled a story to Logan that left Logan speechless.

Tom Griffith had told his daughter about the “murderer” Logan Echolls. He had told her about his history, his father, and the trial that never was. Hannah had railed against him, calling him a liar. She was falling in love with Logan, and cried bitterly that her father just wanted to keep them apart because of his jealousy for anyone she loved besides him. She threatened to run away – she hated his controlling nature and wanted to leave.

In a panic that he would lose his only daughter, Tom Griffith called Liam Fitzpatrick. Griffith told Fitzpatrick that he owed him a favor for incriminating Logan Echolls. “Get him off my back, and no one will be the wiser about Felix’s true killer.”

Liam headed to the Griffith household when he knew Logan would be there – to pick up Hannah for their date. Before embarking on his mission to end Echolls the younger’s life, he called Thumper, and told him the ultimate plan was in motion. They would kill Logan, and then Weevil, and no one would be around on a mission to reveal Felix’s killer.

Ha. Apparently they forgot about Veronica Mars. Logan sighed.

Thumper shared this news with his boys. What he didn’t know was that Hector had never truly defected to his side. Hector was loyal to Weevil, through and through, and upon hearing the news, he warned Weevil of the plan that was underfoot. He picked up Weevil on his bike, and drove him over to the Griffiths’.

“I was just lucky those rich pricks kept their back door unlocked.”

+++

Veronica stumbled into the door, blinded. She hadn’t known where to look, or what to do. Weevil hadn’t picked up his phone. Her dad was out of town and had left his phone on the kitchen table. In deep despair, she had not a clue what to do.

For a moment she considered going to the River Stix, but without backup…or Backup…she knew that would only end in disaster.

She was bewildered, and needed something familiar to her. She flopped onto the bed, and pressed her face into the pillow. She inhaled, and then held her breath. Why does it feel like I’ve been stabbed in my gut? She reached her hand down to her abdomen, and felt nothing there. She recalled feeling this way in the lunchyard the other day, but today it was more pronounced. It was as though someone had shoved a serrated knife deep into her belly and twisted it. She felt impotent, ineffectual.

I couldn’t even save him. I didn’t know what to do. I froze.

She thought back to the last few months. They’d been awful to each other since the breakup, since she got back together with Duncan. I spent all that time acting like I hated him. He died thinking I hated him; he was left with only the mumblings of a drunk girl. He probably did not believe for one moment that I loved him. I’m a fool. I’m a fool, and I’m alone.

Suddenly, sleep overtook her like an assassin. She would later, upon reflection, reason that she fell fast asleep as a defense mechanism. Being awake, thinking about Logan dying, was too much. Her brain and heart were on overload. Like a computer on overload, she shut down.

+++

Logan strode into his hotel suite. He’d talked with Weevil a long time. Although Griffith told them who the killer was, they still had a lot of work to do. They began to plot their next moves. He wasn’t thinking about anything but the murder. He finally was on the path to salvation. He sighed, tired. Practically losing your short life really takes it out of you. What he had gone through today was worth every moment, however.

As soon as I get exonerated, I will prove to her that I’m changed, that I’m not like those toadies.

He pushed his way into his room, and did not bother to turn on the light. Moonlight was softly streaming in through his blinds. He began to unbutton his shirt. One button. Two button.

He looked down at his hands. They were shaking, still. He held them up, and pressed them flat against his closet door, wide apart. He took in a long breath, and closed his eyes. The silence in the room was deafening. He felt cold, and alone. But at least I’m alive. He let the breath out, slowly, and noisily. He wheezed a little.

“Logan?”

He opened his eyes and stared at his hands upon the closet door. He slowly removed them, and looked down at them.

“Logan? Is that you?”

He heard rustling, and heard a click as his bedside lamp snapped on.

He turned his head, his belief completely suspended.

She on his bed, half-sitting up. Her hair fell around her shoulders, and the soft light of the room framed her face.

Fiery angel.

There were tear stains on her face, and he looked to the pillow clenched under her right hand. There were marks which he presumed were mascara streaks.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Both looked as though they couldn’t believe what was before their very eyes.

Veronica parted her lips, as though she wanted to speak, but couldn’t. Her heart hurt. He was there, not five feet away from her, alive.

He’s cheated death. Again.

Wordlessly, she stretched out her left hand toward him.

In a moment within a moment, Logan was in her arms, and she in his. He clutched onto her, not wanting to move, not wanting to let her go.

She pulled back a little, and tilted her face up to meet his. He opened his lips and kissed her like he kissed her the day at the Camelot.

When I fell in love with you, they both thought.

Logan felt the sensation of her warmth under his fingertips.

His hands were no longer empty, but full of her.