Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tiny hands, sticky with the remnants of a bright red popsicle, run through his wind whipped hair. The beach is practically empty, save for a few drifters sitting by themselves, feet tucked into the sand and minds somewhere far from reality. 

It’s Logan’s favorite time of day. The sun is beginning its descent below the waves, or as Rey likes to say, “It’s tucking itself in for bed!” He grips her patient little legs that fall over his shoulders and leans into the feeling of her chest breathing in and out from where she sits atop his shoulders. If the sun gets to use the winding waves as its blanket, then Logan gets to use Audrey as his.

The tide wraps around his ankles and pulls the ground away as it flows in and out. Audrey begins humming a melody that sounds awfully close to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star but with every other beat being a little out of tune. A Rey Remix, as Wallace had once put it, because even if she knew every word to a song, her little mind liked to sing it wrong and make it original every time.

The birds cull and squawk in the distance and he feels Rey’s arms cross atop his head, her chin resting at the back of his skull as she breathes out a sigh, interrupting the final beats of her hummed tune.

“What’s going on up there?” Logan asks, his eyes casting upward to where her weight shifts lightly. 

Pensive, quiet, not always into the idea of sharing what she’s really thinking- a trait she’d unluckily inherited much to his dismay. The little girl’s fingers tap slightly on Logan’s skull, and he imagines a pout forming on her face.

There’s a moment of silence before she mutters something inaudible into his hair.

His hand pats her thigh. “Once more, but this time for the audience,” he says in a teasing tone.

“Do you think she misses us? Mom?”

And at that exact moment, Logan wishes the entire ocean would swallow him up whole. Audrey would be fine. Keith would surely take care of her and most likely raise her to be more of a badass than Logan ever could.

This topic is one that is always handled with the most vital of child gloves. Where’s mom? Why did she leave us? Why can’t we go get her? Why can’t we have her back? It’s a series of questions that pop up every once in a while- more so now that Audrey’s back in school and beginning to make friends with other little girls who have loving mothers that pick them up and braid their hair and sing them to sleep.

Audrey wants. God, does she want. Logan pretends that he doesn’t notice the pictures that go missing from the photo album that Mac had put together two Christmases ago, but he does. And it cuts like a knife when he tucks her in and finds them either tucked between pages of one of her favorite books or crinkled and crammed beneath one of her pillows.

“Of course she does,” Logan replies back.

The little girl huffs another sigh. There’s more she wants to say, Logan can feel it, but much like her mother- she keeps it to herself.

Logan fills the silence by patting a hand on top of her thigh, “I think that, wherever she is, she’s looking out at the exact same sun and thinking the exact same thing about you.”

He can practically hear her voice, “You’re a sap, Echolls.” But she was too, especially when it came to their little girl. From the moment she was brought into the world, he saw the love of his life change ever so slightly. Those hard lines had softened as a nurse placed Audrey into her arms. All tiny and alien like, she had become the base of their existence in a matter of seconds.

“I do miss her,” Rey’s voice replies softly. “I wish…” her voice fades and floats away with the wind that whips against them.

“You wish?” Logan echoes, a similar thing he used to do with her mother. Push her, push her into talking. Because if you don’t, she’ll hold it all in forever.  

There’s a beat and Audrey finally finds the confidence to speak, “I don’t remember her voice,” she tells him, her hands pulling lightly at his scalp. “I wish I could hear her talk again.”

It’s been 4 years. He knew this day would come. She’s beginning to forget. The tiny little pieces of her mother were starting to be erased by the passing of time. Little does she know, Audrey is almost an exact mirror image of her mother. Inquisitive and independent, all she has to do is look in the mirror and she’ll see Veronica.

Veronica.

God, it hurts to even think about her name. Much less, say it.

Veronica. Veronica. Veronica.

He swallows, letting out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. Against his better judgement, one hand untangles from her leg and digs into his pocket, pulling out the phone that was nestled inside.

He feels Audrey shift forward with curiosity.

Tapping his password into the phone, he clicks on his Recordings tab, and pulls open one of many saved voicemails that he’d had a very sad-eyed Mac save for him. 

Without a second’s hesitation, he presses play.

“Loooogan! Answer your phone, you nerd! I know you’re there. So does Rey! And she’s not happy!” A baby’s whine sounds in the background. “See?! Guh, you’re killing me here, Echolls. You told me to call you at 6PM, and I did. You should be on break. We need you back! How many more days ‘til they let you back into the land of the living? 4? 6,000? I’m starting to lose track.” A whine turned into a gurgle sounds from Audrey. “Audrey says she misses you.” There’s a breathy pause. “We miss you, Lo. Come home.” And then, without much time to grab the memory and hold on for dear life, the call cuts off.

2,723 days old. That voicemail was 2,723 days old.

He’s lost in the oblivion of emotions when he realizes that Audrey’s talking above him. “Dad! Can you play it again?”

Something inside of Logan curls up and dies.

The sky darkens as the sun nearly completes its drop behind the sea. 

“How about we get inside first, huh?” He tries, knowing that as much as she wants it, he doesn’t know he can take listening to it again. “If I remember correctly, we’ve still got a spelling test we have to go over.”

“Nooo!” She whines, and he tucks the phone back into his pocket. “I don’t want to study!” She dramatically tips forward looking down at Logan from the higher angle. “I don’t want to go to school anymore. It’s so boring!”

Well, at least she inherited something from him. 

His hands wrap around her tiny thighs again as he turns away from the ocean. “If I let you drop out of school, Grandpa Keith would have me arrested,” he tells her as he begins padding through the sand and back towards their car.

“So?”

Logan laughs, “Wow, thanks for all the love, Rey.”

“You could survive it, dad! Uncle D says you used to beat up guys all the time! You’d be The Prison King!” Her voice is filled with pride, and even though he can’t see it, he can imagine the little look of smugness on her face.

“First,” Logan says as they reach the car, “Prison King isn’t a title anyone should be proud of.” He lifts her off his shoulders and carefully places her on the concrete ground below. “Secondly, what did we say about Uncle D?”

“He lies.” 

Logan smiles, “Uh huh, and?”

“Whatever he says, do the opposite.”

Logan smirks and motions for her to continue.

“And never eat anything you find on his counter unless an adult tells you it’s okay,” she finishes, pulling at the loose threads on the hem of her knit sweater.

“Good.” 

He fishes the keys out of the pocket of his shorts and pulls open the car door to grab a towel out of the passenger seat. “Now de-sand so that we don’t have to get the car cleaned again.” 

She smiles and takes the towel out of his grip before leaning down and using it to rub all the sand off her feet. Once she’s done, she throws it back towards Logan and quickly gets into the passenger seat. Rinse and repeat. She no longer huffs in annoyance like she used to when they began their Sunday evening beach outings.

He closes the door as soon as he hears the seatbelt click. Grabbing her towel, he wipes the excess sand from his legs and feet as well and then walks around the car towards the driver’s side.

His eyes look out at the ocean once more- just in time to see the last tiny orange sliver of sun dip beneath the waves.

“Goodnight, V,” he whispers and then pulls the door open.

--- * * * ---

“It’s just,” the blonde’s voice cracks with emotion.

“It’s irresponsible, Veronica!” Logan bellows. “You’re just going to leave me and Audrey to go- what? Hunt down a stranger that may or may not be a serial killer?”  

“It’s my mom, Logan.” Veronica’s eyes lock with his, and suddenly his shoulders weaken with the weight of worry he’s been carrying. “I’m just going to help my mom. It has nothing to do with-“

“It has everything to do with it.” Logan interrupts, “You left the Bureau because of this guy, Veronica. Don’t go dipping your toes into his crazy again. Let The Reaper go.”  

She flinches at the name of the murderer that had plagued her entire team for so long. “Logan, she’s being followed. By someone who she probably owes money to. It has absolutely nothing to do with that case.”

He knows he’s fighting a losing battle. She’s going to go, no matter what he says. “Let me come wi-“

It’s her turn to interrupt him. “Nope. Me and my mom are going to have some one-on-one girl time.” She turns back to the duffle bag she’s packing. “It’s just a week, I’ll be back before Rey can even realize I’m gone.”

“Veronica,” he tries again, this time slowly propelling himself forward to ghost behind her back. “Please stay. Let the cops deal with it.” Please don’t go do something stupid.

She turns around, and cranes her neck up slightly to look at him. “She asked me to come, Lo.”

He sighs, closing his eyes and nodding.

She snakes her arms around his body, and leans her head against his chest. “If you let Dick anywhere near Audrey while I’m gone, please remind him that she is in fact a tiny human person who will eventually pick up on the words that are coming out of his mouth.”  

Logan laughs, the tension easing.

“I swear, if I come home and her first word is Pussy or Bitch, I will not be held accountable for my actions.”

He leans into her hug and lightly places his chin atop her head, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. “Tell Dick to use the kid filter. Got it.”

There’s a second of silence before she says, “It’s only a week.” She’s trying to justify it, not only to him but to herself. “And when I get home, I’ll be able to sleep more soundly.”

He hates that he has no power over this situation. He feels useless. Listless. Kind of like he did when he didn’t re-up his enlistment with the Navy- needing more time to adjust to having a life outside of flying. A decision that left him feeling like a fish out of water with absolutely nothing to do, two weeks before she thrust a pregnancy test at his chest and told him that he gets to be the one to break the news to her father- something that she would accidentally do over breakfast the next day.  

“I love you,” He tells her and feels her pull back from him. He looks down to find a warm smile gracing her face.

She pushes herself up on her tip toes and kisses his lips lightly, “Love you too.”

They’re adults now. She’s not running away. They have Audrey. She won’t make stupid decisions. She’ll come home in one piece. It’ll be a stupid case that ends with her mother just being paranoid. She’ll make a joke about how worried he was in a couple of weeks. It’ll all go back to normal in no time.

She throws her duffle bag in the back of her car the next morning, and kisses their three-year-old on the nose before heading out towards Nevada.

It would be the last time he’d ever see her.

She’d leave him a voicemail to let him know she made it to her hotel safely and that she’d met up with her mom and had dinner. Everything was okay. She was sure that her mom might have pissed off a bar owner and that he was trying to spook her into paying off her high tab and never coming back again. Then she said goodnight.

And the next morning her mother was found murdered in her small apartment.

There was radio silence from Veronica. He’d gotten the news from Keith.

He called her every 30 minutes on the dot. Until it stopped ringing and started going directly to voicemail.

That evening Veronica’s car was found abandoned near a lake under an overpass 8 miles from her mother’s house. Her keys still in the ignition and bloody handprints spread from the steering wheel to the driver’s window.

Her phone, camera and black leather bag dredged up in the lake only hours after. 

A body was never located. No Veronica was found.

She was gone. 

It took 6 months for all official leads to run dry.

14 months and she officially became one of those “missing peoples” cases that most feared would stay open forever.

Two years in and the FBI arrests the serial killer that had once plagued Veronica’s dreams. The Reaper.

A week of questioning and he gives no indication of even knowing who Veronica is.

A court gives him life in prison only a month later. And he’s put away forever.

But still no Veronica.

4 days after Audrey’s sixth birthday, Keith corners him to tell him that he needs to have the talk with his daughter. Veronica isn’t coming back. Audrey can’t keep thinking that she’s just on a work trip. He can’t keep making up stories about her mother traipsing around London or eating Spaghetti by the Eiffel Tower. 

They needed to have a funeral.

He asks for two weeks.

Then, two days before his deadline comes to a close, Mac shows up at 2 AM to tell him that someone’s logged into two of Veronica’s old email accounts and got on her Facebook to like a restaurant called Delilah’s that was located outside of Syracuse, New York.

The conversation with Audrey never happens. Nor does the funeral.

Veronica was out there. He had known it from the day they found her car and tried to tell him that the likelihood of her being alive was very slim. If Veronica had died, he would have felt it. He knows that for a fact. If his wife had left this earth, then surely a piece of him would have left as well. 

Over the year that followed, there was mostly silence. Mac found and followed a few leads that popped up around New York, but nothing substantial came from it.

And as much as he wanted to pack up his entire life and do nothing but obsess over his missing blonde, he had another tiny blonde who was more important. Instead of spending days obsessing over Veronica’s every last move, he had to learn to bake cookies for girl scouts’ meetings, and wake up early to chaperone museum fieldtrips, and make sure his daughter never ever felt that pang of loneliness that ate away at his childhood. 

He had to be a good dad.

It’s what Veronica would have wanted.

Audrey had been their fresh start. If he ruined that, she’d never forgive him.

So he spent day in and day out being a good, normal father. He shielded her from every hint of darkness that the world tried to cast upon her.

And after lights out, if he padded down the hall to his room and pulled open his laptop to learn every conceivable detail about The Reaper case- well, that was a little piece of Veronica’s determination that had rubbed off on him. 

And if the last thing he thinks before he goes to sleep is, “I’m going to find you,” well, that’s for no one else to know but him.

Chapter Text

If there's only one thing about me that you can trust-
You get my love, baby. You get my love.

“Explore,” He says from the front seat of his SUV, his fingers tapping along to a familiar beat playing from the radio on low volume.

There’s something refreshing about Monday mornings- and truthfully it has a lot to do with the fact that Steph, their cleaning lady, likes to deep clean the living room on Mondays. Rey’s weekends are always a chaotic blur of imaginary castles and moving every toy out of her room and into the kingdom of the main room carpet. And it usually ends in Logan stepping on strategically placed Legos and Rey crying, “Dad, that was the village healer, now all the townspeople are going to die of dysentery!”

That’s enough History Channel for this 7-year-old, he thinks before making a mental note to figure out how she keeps bypassing the parental controls on their TV.

“E-X…” The voice sounds from the back seat.

Logan glances up to look at her from his review mirror and sees her tiny little lips sounding out the word with determination. A smile plays on his lips as he then focuses back on the road ahead.

“P-L-O-R,” She finishes after a second, her expression easing for a moment before she then throws her arms up and asks, “Is this one of those stupid words that has the silent E and the end? Because that’s not fair!”

“E-X-P-L-O-R-E,” Logan confirms and hears Audrey’s loud sigh.

“Our language is dumb!”

Logan laughs, “And yet you utilize it each and every day.”

She rolls her eyes and wraps her hands around the seatbelt that goes across her chest- an argument she had won on the first day of school after demanding that her old car seat was outdated and that if she could go to the bathroom by herself that she should be able to strap in like an adult- it’s butt rules. “Wipe my own butt like an adult, use my own butt to sit down like an adult.” The argument was weak, but Logan was tired after spending 30 minutes trying to get her hair into the coveted pig-tails she’d so desired and just decided to give in.

“You ready for today?” He asks her as they pull to the familiar crosswalk that sits before the turn into First Grade drop off.

“Yes,” she nods, her hands shifting to ghost over the blue and pink sea-themed lunch box that set next to her. She was one of those rare children who periodically liked to make sure that they had everything with them at all times. He’d watch her check for her backpack and lunch box at least half a dozen times every morning on their commute. It’s like she was always worried she was going to look away and turn back and it’d be gone.

“Is Uncle D picking me up today?” She asks her eyes now fixated on one of the other passing cars outside her window.

Logan nods, “Coach is gonna come grab you from aftercare, and then Uncle D will be there at 4 to pick you up from his office and bring you to the beach house.”

She hums an “m’kay” her feet swinging listlessly over the edge of the seat as they pull into the line of drop-offs.

“I’ll be there around 6 to pick you up. Think you’ll survive it?”

She shrugs her shoulders easily, “It depends…” Logan pulls to a stop- her turn to unbuckle and hop out to join the masses of children and teachers herding them into grade specific areas. “Do you think Uncle D will have his S-P-E-C-I-A-L lady friend there?”

“That, you can spell with no problem?”

Audrey unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her backpack and lunch box before pushing the door open and pausing only to look forward at her dad, “Her name’s Kathyrinee. And she spells it with two silent E’s at the end.” There’s a gap before she continues, “She’s evil.”

With that she hops out and one of the teachers helps shut the car door behind her as she confidently walks into the crowd of children, knowing exactly where she needs to be and bee lining directly for a familiar looking group of kids that Logan recognizes as her classmates.

He shifts the gear back into drive.

Silence fills the car and he can feel his leg begin to do that nervous twitch thing that Veronica always used to scorn him about. “Sit still and breathe, Logan.” He hears her voice, clear as day, in the back of his head.

Fiddling with the radio he turns the knob enough for the music to fill the emptiness his daughter’s absence left behind.

He really hates being alone with his own thoughts.

Almost as much as Audrey hates those pesky silent E’s.

-----

“What about Jane?”

Logan pops his head out of the bathroom door, toothbrush in hand, as he looks at his very pregnant wife and repeats, “Jane?”

“Yeah, for the little bean,” she says motioning to her stomach, which sits round and swollen under the baby naming book she has balanced on it.

He goes back into the to spit and rinse before returning to the bedroom, dropping a washcloth into the designated dirty laundry basket, and offering, “I don’t know. Doesn’t it give you a little old lady vibe?”

“Hmm… I’m getting more of world renowned anthropologist vibe.” Veronica retorts, flipping through the pages. “But I can’t put all that pressure on her shoulders. She shouldn’t have to live in the shadow of Goodall.”

Logan snorts.

“This isn’t funny, Logan! At this rate, we’ll never name her.”

Falling back on the bed, Logan looks over at Veronica, “You’re just saying that because Dick found your list of the best girl names and he said he’d conquered every name on that list.”

Veronica flips another page and grunts in response.

He lets his head fall back against their headboard, a smirk toying on his lips as he watches Veronica scan the pages with determination. “You know…” He starts, “I still like Tiffany.”

“You only say that because you really like that Deep Blue Something song,” she tells him matter-of-factly. “And I still think it’s a crime to cinema that you haven’t actually seen Breakfast At Tiffany’s.”

“It’s boring.”

“It’s a classic!”

“Classically boring.”

Veronica places the book down on her stomach, her eyes narrowing at her husband. “How dare you speak ill of the iconic Audrey- Oof.” The baby naming book slips from its place and falls on the bed beside her as she places her hands over her stomach and cringes.

Logan freezes, his back seizing straight as he suddenly becomes alert. “V?”

Another groan comes out of Veronica’s mouth and Logan is sitting up, fear coursing through his veins. He reaches out an arm and she takes it, squeezing it as she bears down on the pain.

“She’s- fucking SHIT.” Veronica cusses, grinding her teeth.

“Do we need to-”

Logan’s cut off by Veronica shaking her head and taking in a deep breath. “No, she just decided to do an entire Olympic gymnastics routine as soon as I brought up Audrey Hep- SHIT!” Her nails dig into the skin of his arm and Logan shifts uselessly next to her.

“Breathe, Veronica.” He tries calmly.

Surprisingly, without argument, Veronica listens. She breathes in and out.

In. And. Out.

In. And. Out.

Logan’s still on alert when her eyes open again, and she looks at her husband from under long lashes, “I think… she likes it.”

Brows furrowed, “What?”

“Audrey.” Veronica finishes, one hand rubbing a light circle on her stomach. “I think she likes the name Audrey.”

Logan breathes, tension easing from his shoulders. “Audrey Echolls, huh?”

A small smile forms across Veronica’s face as she repeats, “Audrey Echolls.”

------

The stairs creak in protest below his feet as he climbs up to the familiar set of offices. Not much has changed, his attempts to update the place falling on deaf ears as Keith pushed contractors out the door and tossed downtown office listings in the trash. “It’s a classic, Logan. Old will come back into style eventually,” He’d said with a smirk, but deep down Logan thinks it might be because he’s afraid of change.

Much like his daughter, Keith doesn’t want to forget what used to be.

Pulling open the frosted glass door, he overhears Keith’s booming voice coming from his designated office and then takes a seat at her old desk- well, really his desk now. He’d taken on the load that Veronica’s absence had left behind, mainly helping keep Keith from going insane with grief and unresolved questions.

Logan pulls his laptop bag from off his shoulder and leans it on the ground below his bottom drawer, pulling it open with a zip.

“No, mam!” Keith’s voice sounds, “I promise, your husband won’t even know we’re there.” A pause. “Why? Because that’s our job.” Another pause. “Do you want him to know we’re there?”
Logan huffs a silent laugh.

“Okay, alright.” Keith concedes over the line, “Just think about what I told you and get back to me.” He tells her and there’s a few beats of taciturnity before he hangs up the phone.

Logan’s pulling open his laptop and clocking in the familiar password when he hears Keith stand, shuffle some papers, and begin heading his way. “You’re in early,” Keith states, coming to a stop at the doorway and loosening his shoulders absentmindedly.

Logan looks up with a shrug, “Wasn’t feeling the gym this morning,” translation: I didn’t sleep well last night because I was hung up on finding my wife again. “Decided to just come straight here instead.”

“And my grandchild?”

“Safely at school,” Logan tells him, turning his attention back to the list of unread junk emails clogging up his desktop.

Keith looms silently in a way that triggers Logan’s anxiety. It’s like the older man has something to say, but doesn’t know how to say it.

“Everything ok?” Logan tries.

Keith’s gaze drops to his feet; a tell-tale Mars sign of guilt. Even Rey had picked up on it. She’d immediately called Keith out the minute she cornered him over a passing “Santa isn’t real” joke.

“Keith?” Logan tries again.

A sigh comes from the older man as he finally looks up to meet his son-in-law’s gaze. “I found a few things.” The entire room falls into a stillness that doesn’t even seem real. “And I don’t know if they mean what I think they mean, but…” a long drawn off look, “They definitely mean something.”

Logan locks his jaw while trying to keep that buzzing feeling in the pit of his stomach at bay. “Does this something have to do with…”

He doesn’t even wanna say it.

And neither does Keith, because the old man offers a nod instead of waiting for Logan to finish his sentence. With the crook of two fingers, Keith motions for the younger man to follow him into his office.

Immediately, Logan pushes himself up from his desk and trails.

“When they arrested Robert Dunn and he openly confessed to The Reaper murders, he practically painted them a timeline.” Keith begins, sinking into his desk chair, exhaustion evident on his features. “He wanted the fame. Hell, he asked for a book deal before he even asked for a lawyer.”

Logan grits his teeth. He’d had several detailed dreams about strangling the life out of that smug bastard. Dreams that involved Dunn finally giving in and spilling Veronica’s whereabouts, and Logan finding her completely unharmed and beautiful and…

Keith slides a picture on the desk in front of Logan and just like that his thoughts snap back on track.

“What is this?”

In the photo several young men, all in varying degrees of disarray, are posed in front of the Washington Monument, drinks in hand as they pose for the camera.

“Luke Jennings’ Bachelor Party, November 2012.” Keith fills him in and Logan crosses his arms, waiting for the point to be made. “It came across a fansite for The Reaper a little over 2 weeks ago.” Logan waits for more information. “If you look in the back, you’ll see a very incapacitated Robert Dunn. Who, as the posters say, wasn’t friends with any of the guys, but was a stray they picked up that night while barhopping.”

“Okay, and…”

“November 2012.” Keith reiterates. “A further dive has Luke uploading it to Facebook at 2 AM on November 22nd, 4 hours before he would somehow find himself in Albuquerque, New Mexico strangling Amy Taylor and dumping her remains outside a motel near the edge of town.”

Logan stares at the photo, his brows knitting together as he takes in Keith’s statement. “That doesn’t mean it’s a real photo, Keith, it could have been-”

Keith drops another photo in front of him, this one a blurry surveillance photo. “He said he murdered his 3rd victim, Jeanie Durand, in El Paso, Texas on April 24th the following year.” Logan looks at the black and white blurred, but familiar face. “But this shows him at a Redbox in Montpelier, Virginia- renting a DVD using his mother’s debit card.”

Logan goes to pick up the picture when Keith puts down one last photo, “And victim number 4? Anna Cohen? He claims he killed her early December 2013. Her body was found on the 12th in Jackson, Mississippi but here he is,” the older man motions to the photo which is a screenshot of PlayStation logs. “This has him on his gaming system in his Virginia apartment for at least 4 hours a day for the entire week before that.”

“How did you…”

“Mac’s been helping me for the past few weeks.” Keith supplies, bringing to light a secret that they’ve been keeping from him. “I wanted to tell you, I just…” Keith throws a hand in the air, listlessly motioning it, “It’s a lot. This whole thing.”

Logan’s mind works to process this information as he speaks, “So you think he’s innocent?”

“No.”

At that, Logan tears his eyes away from the evidence below on the desk, and he looks to Keith in confusion.

“Do I think he killed the last 3 women? Yes. Do I think he killed the first 5?” A breath. “No.” Logan’s fists ball in frustration at this news. “Could he have been buddies with the guy who did? There’s no telling. But, unless this guy mastered the art of being in two places at once, it wasn’t him.”

Logan runs a hand through his hair, “You think he was covering up for a friend? That the guy could still be out there?”

Keith nods, “It’s possible.” He then leans back in his chair, a pained expression painting its way across his face. “You know that means when he said he didn’t remember Veronica…”

“He wasn’t lying.”

---------

Her tiny hands flatten the birthday invitation against her desk. There’s balloons, glitter, and a picture of what Audrey knows is a horse clearly pretending to be a unicorn all framed underneath, “It’s Ella’s 8th Birthday!”

She and Ella were never really close. She’d let Audrey borrow her puffy chalk at recess once, but that was only because Audrey could draw the straightest lines in class and the weather had faded their beloved hopscotch squares. It wasn’t that she wasn’t friendly, Ella was actually really nice. Audrey just didn’t gravitate towards people who were… loud. And Ella was loud. From her hot pink sweater to her multicolored shimmering hair bow- everything about her screamed, “Look at me!”

Audrey didn’t like having that much attention. Not even on her own birthday.

She hung around with the same few people, all of whom were volumes lower than Ella. Rylan, who was her absolute favorite friend, was a 7-year-old boy, much to her father’s irritation, who loved to read and talk about the Series of Unfortunate Events books with her. She’d befriended him because he didn’t ask questions. The day their friendship had been sealed actually happened after a particularly stressful morning with her father, who had been talking to Aunt Mac in a very loud tone, ended up dropping her off at carline and leaving with her lunchbox. She’d mentioned it to her cubbie neighbor who had then said, “Can’t you just call your mom?” And then Jeremy, who sat two desks over, said, “She doesn’t have a mom!”

She spent recess alone and hungry, with her knees pulled to her chest and her back against a bookshelf in the back of the library.

That is, until Rylan sat on the ground next to her, a book in one hand and his lunch box in the other. Without saying a word, or even asking what was wrong or why she looked like she had been crying, he unclasped the top of his Avengers lunchbox, pushed his leftover apple slices and yogurt pretzels towards her- and then pulled out his book and continued reading quietly.

They spent almost every recess together after that. And he’d even lent Audrey his tattered copies of A Series of Unfortunate Events so that she could catch up with him and they could talk about Count Olaf’s evilness and what they’d have done if they were one of the book’s three orphans.

Audrey’s eyes scan the invite again, idly wondering if Rylan was going to be going to Ella’s party when she heard Jeremy say, “And they found him?”

She turned her head slightly, suddenly listening in on the conversation that was happening near her.

Kenzie, who had lost her dog two months ago, was telling a small group of aftercare kids about how her mom posted on Google Find that their family dog was missing and only three days later someone returned him.

“We looked everywhere,” Kenzie says with an overdramatic hand motion, “and all we had to do was post on Google Find and it’s like the Google ninjas helped us find the guy who had taken her in a month ago!”

“Google ninjas?” Audrey repeats, disbelief evident in her tone.

The group suddenly turns to eye her and Audrey feels embarrassment redden her cheeks. “They’re real!” Kenzie tells her, matter-of-factly. “All you have to do is go to Google Find and pick your city and tell them exactly what you’re looking for- and they find it!”

Audrey doesn’t argue, her little brain suddenly calculating ideas. She goes to ask another question when suddenly a familiar voice calls, “Yo, Rey!” And she looks up to see her Uncle Wallace in the doorway, a grin spread across his face.

“Coach!” Audrey smiles back, immediately throwing Ella’s invitation into her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder before launching herself across the classroom and into Wallace’s arms. She hadn’t gotten to hang out with him for the past month because basketball season had been taking up almost all of his time.

“It’s good to see you too, kid!” He says, shifting her weight to one of his arms and tapping her lightly on the nose with the other. “Whattya say we blow this popsicle stand?”

Audrey nods, but not before doing her regular mental check and saying, “Wait- I gotta get my lunchbox first!”

She immediately hops from his arms and beelines for her cubbie across the classroom. As she grabs the lunchbox and goes to head back to Wallace, she hears Jeremy ask, “So they can find anything?”

“Yeah,” Kenzie tells him. “Anything!”

---------

When Dick walks in, Audrey and Wallace had created swords out of washable markers and were laughing obnoxiously loud along with two of his students who had stayed after class for an extra credit assignment that ended up being them just helping him clean out the gunk from behind the bookshelves in his room.

“I’m surprised they put you in charge of teaching America’s youth,” Dick says pulling Wallace’s attention away from Audrey long enough for her to swing her marker sword so hard that it causes his to collapse.

She throws her arms up in victory.

Wallace sighs in defeat. He turns his body towards Dick as Audrey begins to collect the markers that had collapsed and scattered against the floor, “I’m surprised they even let you on high school campuses, Casablancas.”

Dick throws up his hands in surrender, “Hey man, I don’t mess with high school girls anymore. They’re too young. Even for me.”

“Promising,” Wallace says, rolling his eyes. “Rey, you sure you wanna go home with him?”

Audrey stands up straight, markers in her arms. “Yeah,” she grins looking over at her dad’s oldest friend, “he’s got the good pizza rolls!”

“Thanks. You really sold me there, Lil E,” Dick tells her, picking up her backpack from where its sitting against one of the empty desks.

Audrey nods in return and then looks to Wallace who helps her put the markers back on his desk. She starts to put them back in their slip case when Wallace places a hand on her shoulder and declares, “Nah, don’t worry about it, Rey. One of those two knuckleheads over there will put ‘em up for us,” he says motioning to the students on the other end of the classroom. “Go grab your bag, you got pizza rolls to eat.”

She does as she’s told, skipping over to Dick, who helps her put the bag over her two shoulders. “Thanks for pickin’ me up, Coach!”

Wallace smiles, “Anything for my girl,” he tells her with a smile. “And remember what I taught you today, right?”

Audrey nods excitedly, “It’s easier to study and not fail the test then to have to clean the entire classroom to try to get enough points to pass.”

The two students on the other end of the classroom groan and Dick laughs from his belly. “Dang dude, that’s cold. You really are a teacher.”

“Only on the weekdays,” Wallace offers with a smirk.

Dick looks down at the tiny blonde before him, “You ready, pipsqueak?”

Audrey nods, and Dick turns to salute Wallace. Audrey watches with interest before duplicating the exact same salute and then grabbing her Uncle Dick’s hand and heading towards the door.

Wallace sighs and calls after them, “Probably in your best interest not to copy him, Rey!”

And when Dick flips Wallace off, well, Rey doesn’t exactly know what that finger motion means- but the last time she copied it, her dad wasn’t happy, so she just offers a wave in Wallace’s direction instead and heads with her Uncle D out to his car.

--------

“We’re ordering in the new flooring,” Dick tells her, as he helps her unbuckle from the back seat of his car. “I’m thinkin’ like rockstar red carpet, but my partner says it clashes with the walls.”

Rey, not entirely invested in the conversation, retorts, “Red floors are icky.”

“You’re icky,” he says, pulling away and allowing her to hop out the car. “Besides, you’re like 5, your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“I’m 7!” She tells him as her feet hit the gravel of his driveway. “And my opinion does matter!” She may not be invested in the topic, but she’s not going to pass up the chance to beat her Uncle D in an argument. “I’m in Advanced Reading, and I’m already in group 4.”

Dick shuts the car door, hitting the lock button on his keys before walking with her towards the front door. “Group 4? That sucks, only kids in Group 5 are gonna be allowed at my new beach hotel.”

Rey sticks out her tongue and Dick returns the sentiment.

“Who says I’d wanna go to your stupid hotel anyway?”

He pushes his key into the door, “It’s going to be a luxury hotel. Complete with three spa options, two rooftop pools, a gourmet sushi bar and a beach front view.” He tells her, repeating all of the amenities he’d already gushed about in the car. “You watch, it’s gonna be the hottest new spot in Neptune.”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna have ugly carpets.”

“F-” Dick starts but then remembers he’s talking to a child. “Forget you,” he saves himself. He would have regularly dropped the F bomb with no regrets, but ever since Logan sat him down with that disappointed dad face and explained to him how impressionable kids were, he’d actually started feeling guilty about it. That, and the fact that he’d made a deal with Rey that he’d give her a dollar every time he slips up if she promised not to tell her father. The kid left with $20 a few days back because Dick had accidentally stubbed his toe and dropped a gallon of milk at the same time. “Whatever, it’s still got months of construction to go. Maybe by then even you’ll like the red carpets.”

Rey sheds her backpack in the foyer of Dick’s beach house, “Doubt it!” She calls over her shoulder as she heads to the TV room, only to be stopped by a familiar body walking out of Dick’s room in a big fluffy white robe.

Kathyrinee.

“Babe!” Dick says, looking just as surprised as Rey is, but noticeably less disgusted than the little blonde. “What are you doing here?”

“We have to talk,” she says clicking her tongue pointedly against her lips. Rey notes that her face doesn’t exactly move like a normal person’s. It’s stiff. Like an alien. Except last time she tried to explain to her dad that Kathyrinee was an alien, he had tried to explain that she gets a medical treatment to help her look young, and sometimes it made her face look “like hard wax.”
Rey liked the alien theory better.

She looks to her uncle, who looks a little taken aback by Kathyrinee’s statement. “Hey Rey, you mind watching TV in my room?”

Rey shrugs her shoulders, her plans to jump on the couch now abandoned. An idea suddenly strikes her, and before disappearing into the room Kathyrinee just came from, she decides to ask, “Can I use your computer?”

Dick nods in reply, “Sure kid, it should be on my desk.” A pause. “But keep it educational. No getting me in trouble for watching Game of Thrones clips again.”

Audrey nods and claps her hands together before heading towards his room, shouldering past Kathyrinee with obvious disdain, “See ya, double E.”

Kathyrinee’s voice sounds behind her as she shuts the door, “Did she just make fun of my boobs?”

------

The waves are wild that day- so big that even Wallace showed up to Dick’s house in board shorts. Veronica’s got Audrey attached to her hip as she follows the boys out into the warm sand- their eyes all focused on the rushing waves. “Don’t do anything stupid!” Veronica calls after them.

Dick’s the only one to respond back, “No promises, Ronnie!”

She shakes her head, biting back a laugh as the guys head towards the ocean, boards clasped firmly under their arms. Turning her gaze to look down at her daughter, Veronica smiles, “Well, looks like it’s just me and you, Rey.”

The 3-year-old grins, her tiny front teeth on full display. Veronica idly wonders if it’s normal to fall in love with your child over and over again every couple of hours when her daughter suddenly cheers, “Sandcas’sles!”

Feigning shock and surprise Veronica’s eyes widen, “Sandcastles?”

The little blonde nods, her hand absently pulling at her lower lip.

“How about a sand kingdom?” Veronica inquires, looking over at where Dick and Logan had set up a blanket and umbrella and her request earlier. “With tiny little sand villages and a tiny royal sand family?”

Even though Rey doesn’t 100% comprehend what Veronica’s really saying, she still nods happily, “Yeah!”

And by the time the waves begin to let up and Logan paddles back in, shoulders freckled from the hot sun, Veronica and Rey have constructed a moat that surrounded a half collapsed castle looking formation and a very sticky and sand-covered tiny troll doll.

“What do we got here?” Logan asks after lodging his board into the sand, and climbing onto the edge of free towel that was open next to his wife.

“Sand Kin-dom!” Rey says excitedly, her chubby fists spreading sand as she lifts them.

Logan snorts, “It’s a little small for a kingdom, don’t ya think?” Veronica feigns a dramatic gasp, “Small? Don’t underestimate Mars-Echolls Manner!” Veronica leans against Logan playfully, “Though they be but little, they are mighty.”
Rey digs her toes into the sand, delighted by the mere presence of her parents. “You can’t come in without the passa-word, dad!”

Logan’s eyes widen, “There’s a password?”

Rey nods in response, “Ya, mom and I made it. It’ssa secret.”

“A secret? Even from your dear old dad?”

Veronica snickers, “Especially from your dear old dad.”

Logan grabs his heart, mock hurt playing on his face, “But what if I wanna stay in the castle?”

Rey debates for a second before looking at her mom for permission.

Veronica sighs, “Go ahead, tell ‘em.”

“Red Rose Rises With Royal Re’trub’utton!”

“Retribution,” Veronica repeats coolly.

“Very poetic,” Logan tells his little girl. “You come up with that all by yourself?”

Suddenly preoccupied with pulling at the wet sand in her troll doll’s hair, Rey replies back without even looking at her father, “Mommy helped.”

Logan looked to Veronica who shrugged her shoulders, “It’s called authenticity, Logan.”

And if she refused to let Veronica in her room that night without the password, it was all to be blamed on the older blonde’s creative streak. The password became somewhat of a secret code between the two- something that Audrey only pulled out in stressful situations. Meltdowns were met with, “Do I need a password?” and small little secrets were kept from Logan as being labelled “Password protected” between the two.

It was a game, one of Audrey’s favorites- up until the other player decided to stop playing.

---------

Logging onto Dick’s computer is a breeze, even for a seven-year-old. His password “Password123” is taped near the bottom of the monitor, allowing Rey easy access. Since he’d been busted with “inappropriate content” in the past, Dick’s computer has been thoroughly cleaned- and Rey pretends she doesn’t know about the secret laptop under the left side of his bed.
A picture of her dad and Uncle D- looking a lot younger- greets her when the desktop finally loads. They’re both on the beach, as per usual, but Uncle D’s blonde hair is longer and her dad’s face looks… happier.

She tilts her head, studying the picture for only a moment or two more before using the wireless mouse to hit the little red yellow and green Google button.

With the world at her fingertips, Rey acts like a woman on a strict mission, her eyes darting towards the door- Muffled voices still arguing on the other side.

“You said you were on a business trip!”

“I was! It was a business trip! It’s just an instragram photo, you gotta chill!”

“Chill?! Don’t you…”

Rey loses interest, her eyes jumping back to the Google homepage. With quick hands she types in “Google Find” and a grey page with “What are you looking for? We’ll help you find it!” written across the top in glowing white font appears.

She clicks the button underneath that says, “Help Me Find It” and is immediately met with a screen that asks her to provide an email address. Clicking her lips together, she tries to remember the Apple address that her Aunt Mac had help her set up when she’d gifted her with a new iPad for Christmas. It takes her a minute, but she remembers- typing in “[email protected]” and clicking the “Next” button with ease.

The following page that loads offers her a big empty white box for her to provide details as to what she’s looking for and post for the whole world to see- including the Google Ninjas that Kenzie had mentioned earlier.

She hesitates for a moment, not sure exactly what she should say. Chewing on her lower lip, she narrows her eyes in determination. This is her chance. This is how she’ll find her mom and tell her that dad needs her to come home already.

I’m looking for Veronica Mars Echolls.

She begins typing, and suddenly it all comes with ease.

She has yellow hair and is kind of short. She likes old movies and taking pictures. She is my mom and she has not been home in a long time. Dad needs to see her. I miss her.

Password Pro…

She sounds the word out between her teeth. Pro-tec-ted.

Password Proteckted.

Come home.

Below the post it asks for a location and Rey carefully types in Neptune, California, making sure she gets both A’s and both I’s in California.

Then, just like that, she hits post- and the Google gods take her information and post it publicly online for the whole world to see.

Rey smiles, her job complete, she then exits the screen and leans back in Uncle D’s swivel desk chair. If it only took 3 days for the Google Ninjas to find Kenzie’s lost dog, it should take half the time to find her mom, right? People are easier to find than dogs.

A door slamming sparks her attention and Rey looks towards Dick’s door- only for him to poke his head in moments later, “Sorry about that, kid. Kathyrinee’s just…”

“Evil?” Rey supplies, hopping out of the chair and heading towards him.

Dick opens the door all the way and nods after a second’s hesitation, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Rey rolls her eyes, pushing past him and into the living room. “I knew it. Double E’s.”

Dick’s forehead wrinkles in confusion before bypassing the comment completely. He watches as the small blonde plants herself on his big sofa, her arm grabbing for the remote control. With a small smirk he offers, “You want pizza rolls?”

------

Logan’s exhausted. Full body, full mind, full everything exhausted. He feels like the information Keith gave him earlier is a lead weight tied to his ankles- and life in general has felt like a drowning pool for the past couple of weeks.

He’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen, inattentively cutting the crust off a peanut butter sandwich for Rey’s lunch tomorrow when the sound of tiny feet pitter-pattering down the staircase catches his attention.

Putting down the knife, he licks at the bit of peanut butter that smeared on the side of his hand when he had to dig to get the last remnants from the bottom of the jar. He files away a mental note to pick up more peanut butter this week. The footsteps stop at the bottom of the staircase and silence follows as he zips the sandwich up in a Ziploc bag and turns to put it in the fridge.

He waits for Rey to show her face and when a few more moments of silence pass without her showing up, he closes the fridge door and calls out, “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

Silence… followed by a loud sigh.

Then the tiny feet shuffle into his line of view. “How’d you know I was there?”

“I’m psychic,” Logan replies back without missing a beat.

She climbs onto one of the barstools lined against the kitchen island, sitting back on her knees and looking just as worn and weary as her father feels. She’s too young for the worry lines she’s producing as she leans her chest against the counter and clasps her hands together like she’s a big name boss about to fire one of her employees.

“Something on your mind, bud?”

She looks up at her dad, “You seem sadder.”

If Logan felt didn’t feel like complete shit before, he certainly does now. He tries not to let her see how her words cause him to falter and instead asks, “What do you mean?” as he continues to stuff Ziploc bags back into their box.

She plays with her fingers and her voice grows smaller when she responds, “You don’t look like you used to.” She blows out a little breath of frustration. “Uncle D had a photo on his computer and your smile was,” she traces her fingers from her cheeks to her eyes.

Trying to make light of the situation, “Is this you trying to tell me that I’m getting old?”

Audrey exhales, “No. Just... I don’t know.”

Logan pushes the box of Ziploc bags back into the drawer, and looks up at her just in time to see her usually bright little expression go into shutdown mode. When she can’t quite express her feelings, she does exactly what her mother did- she shuts down and flees.

As if on cue, she’s pushing herself away from the counter, and hopping back on the cool wooden floors- ready to flee to the safe space of her bedroom.

“Wait a minute,” Logan’s twisting away from the counter and reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

She turns under his grasp, her lips flush with a pout and her eyes water rimmed. A piece of Logan breaks as he gets down on one knee so that he can be on her level.

There’s a moment of absolute silence as he looks at the little girl before him. She’s starting to become a tiny little person- with her own traits and expressions… And if he’s being honest, it absolutely terrifies him.

Rey places her hands on either side of his face, trying to stretch his mouth into a smile. “It’s still there, you just don’t use it,” she whispers in a hoarse tone.

Logan’s brows furrow, “I smile.”

“Not like you used to.”

He places a hand on her hip and offers her a smile as proof. “Rey, how can I be sad when I have you around?”

She shrugs, not quite understanding what he’s saying.

“I’m happy,” he tells her. “Every morning when I get to wake you up for school and see your angry little face poke out from under the blanket? They’re the best mornings of my life.” He can’t believe they’re even having this conversation. If he’s failed to make his daughter see how much she means to him then what else has he failed at? “You make me happy.”

The point must get across because her hands fall from his face and a small grin slowly forms across her lips. “Happy enough for another bedtime story?”

Logan groans, “Was that your ploy this whole time?”

“No,” she supplies quickly, “but it did work out in my favor.”

Shifting his weight, he scoops her up in his arms and blows raspberries into her cheek as she giggles carelessly trying to push away from him, “I guess I’m happy enough for one more bedtime story.”

“What about two?”

He starts up the staircase, Rey in wrapped in his arms. “Two is pushing it,” he tells her with a hint of sarcasm. “Especially for someone who should have been asleep 30 minutes ago.”

They pass through the hallway and into her room. As she jumps out of her dad’s arms and into her bed her attention is on anything but the small rose gold iPad that her Aunt Mac had gifted her for Christmas. And when Logan starts reading aloud from one of her favorite books, she doesn’t notice the dim light come on as the iPad vibrates with a new message.

Audrey, I’m here.

Another buzz.

But we have to keep this a secret. You can’t tell your dad.

Another buzz.

I’ve missed you so much. I will come home. I promise.

---------

The white light of a computer screen is the only thing that lights his face in the dark room. He leans forward, the motel supplied chair creaking in objection as he reads the post one more time.

He couldn’t believe it. 4 years.

4 fucking years.

And finally, he’s found it. A way to get back at Agent Mars. His eyes scan the Google Find search again- or should he say Veronica Mars Echolls.

When his computer had pinged her name back to life again, he’d almost had an aneurism, not because he thought he’d found her- but because he found something better.

Her family.

“Neptune, California,” he reads out loud to the emptiness around him. “Here I come.”

Chapter Text

Click.

He never understands how she didn’t get bored of assignments like this. 

A younger woman calling in convinced that her much older husband is cheating on her- digging into his savings account- to hire a PI to follow him so that she can use the photos to try to argue against the pre-nup she had begrudgingly signed.

They must get two dozen of these calls a month. Because apparently no one in Neptune is faithful anymore- or really to was begin with.

Logan sighs behind the lens of Keith’s camera. It’s a little old and shows clear signs of being dropped- or maybe even knocked out of someone’s hands- all part of the job, unfortunately. 

The older man in question, Geoffrey Townes, stands outside a gentleman’s club named Showcase. He’s got a cigarette loosely grasped between two fingers and his attention directed towards a cellphone in his opposite hand.

“Come on,” Logan mutters, dropping the camera ever so slightly. He’s got shit he could be doing. 

Which makes him wonder if Keith was actually not feeling well this morning or if he was purposely getting Logan out of the office. The old man was a sneaky bastard like that, but with him being the only father figure Logan could actually look up to- he usually just had to grin and bear it.

He wants to say he’s overthinking it. Keith had no intention of researching further into Veronica’s case without him, right? He probably just wanted Logan out of the office so that he could sneak one of those meatball subs for lunch that he’d been barred from eating by his cardiologist.

Either way, Logan was itching to get this over with. Meatball sub be damned.

As if on cue, a sleek black Lexus pulls up to where Townes is standing. From his spot a little less than a block away, Logan nonchalantly lifts his camera.

Click.

Click.

Click.  

Out steps a woman with, quite possibly, the longest legs Logan has ever seen- and barely anything covering them up. In a fashion that can only (and unfortunately) be described as “childish” she excitedly hops to the sidewalk and flounders the older man with kisses.

Click.

Click.  

The shutter catches every action as she showers Townes with adoration. Logan’s seen this game before- she’s acting. Pulling in an unfaithful man and squeezing him for all he’s worth by giving him all the love he’s desired from a woman he probably divorced 20 years ago. He kind of wants to applaud her for it. 

If he’s learned anything from joining Mars Investigations, it’s that men usually get what they deserve.

Townes grabs a handful of the young woman’s ass and just as Logan’s stomach churns with disgust, his phone vibrates to life with new call.

Lowering his camera, he looks down to see that it’s Audrey’s school calling. 

Shit.

What did he forget?

He pushed the “picture day” incident to the back of his mind- knowing that he can’t dwell on his daughter showing up with uneven pigtails and pajamas- because she insisted it was Pajama Day and not Picture Day. When Barbara, the front desk attendant, had called him and demanded that he bring a change of clothes, Logan had agreed… but only under one condition. “You get to tell her to change.”

Audrey ended up with a wonderful Pajama-clad School picture that year. He had it framed in the living room.

Logan shakes his head and grabs his phone, swiping it before putting it to his ear and offering a, “Hello?”

“Mr. Echolls?” 

Ugh. Barbara. 

Logan lets his camera slide to his lap, and rests his head back against his seat. “Yes m’am. Is everything okay?”

There’s silence.

“I don’t want to alarm you, Mr. Echolls,” her voice is quiet.

Logan’s breath catches. 

“There’s been somewhat of an accident.”

Assignment completely forgotten, Logan throws the camera into his passenger seat and then pulls the car into drive. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

------

Veronica’s sitting atop the counter, her legs dangling off of it as she lazily eats a bowl of cereal. “You know what I was thinkin’ about last night?”

Logan looks up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, an old episode of Golden Girls playing on mute from the TV and an Academy Sports Magazine clutched in his hands.

Veronica, not even waiting for him to give a signal that he’s paying attention, continues on. “Me and you? Growing up.” She takes another bite of cereal. “We were both terrible students,” she informs him, clicking her spoon to the bottom of the bowl. “Like, not in the studying aspect. Our grades were decent. But the shit we pulled…”

Logan snorts, “Dwelling on your past, Ronnie? Want to write apology letters to everyone we ever wronged?”  

She stirs her cereal around in the bowl, “No!” She huffs out a breath, “I’m just thinking- this little lima bean,” she uses her chin to motion down to her stomach, barely showing any signs of her pregnancy at this point, “He or she is gonna be half you and half me.”

Something inside Logan feels a little warm and happy… until he finally gets what she’s saying. “We should probably warn the principal ahead of time, huh?”

“Bingo!” Veronica says with a wink, glad that he’s finally caught up to her point.

Logan slides the magazine he’s looking at onto the coffee table and lifts himself off the couch, “She’s gonna be a little monster, isn’t she?”

Veronica sets her bowl down on the counter next to her, “Why are you so sure it’s gonna be a girl?”

He enters the kitchen, bee-lining straight for the blonde, “Because the world is in dire need of more Mars-like women.”

Veronica offers a smile, “You’re just saying that because then you get out of having to have all the awkward sex talks with her.”

Logan places his hands on either side of her stomach, “Shhh! It’s too early to be using words like that in front of her.”

Veronica scoffs, “We’re kinda doomed, you know that right?” She leans into Logan’s touch as his hands slide from her stomach to her thighs and he fits himself directly between them. “She’s gonna be breaking headlights and framing kids with drugs by the time she’s seven.”  

Logan leans in, laughing into her shoulder. “Seven? Jesus, maybe we should consider a different preschool.”  

Veronica’s arms lift to rest on his shoulders, “I’m telling you, Echolls- We better enjoy the peace and quiet now, because this little beast is gonna come out and immediately start battling the patriarchy.”  

“Oh, but you see,” Logan’s arms snake to wrap around the tiny blonde. “There’s only one of her, and there’s two of us. We outnumber her.”

“Yeah, but we’re old!”

Logan scoffs, “Old?” He then uses his arms to lift the blonde from the counter. She wraps her legs around him, her laugh filling the apartment like sun on a beautiful Saturday morning. “I’m in tip-top condition, Mrs. Echolls.”

Veronica leans in, dragging her lips to his ear and whispers, “Show me.”

Challenge accepted.  

She laughs the whole way to their bedroom.

------

He’s not ashamed to say he’s sweating like crazy when he steps into Neptune Elementary’s main office. Without so much as taking in the room around him, he immediately flings himself over to the desk where he looks down at Ms. Barbara, who is tapping her long red nails against the faux wood of her desk as she reads over a stack of paper. 

She catches his arrival and glances up, “Mr. Echolls, you got here quick.”

In seven minutes, he mentally replies. Probably not a good idea to own up to speeding and running a few red lights. 

“Is everything okay?” 

She takes her time responding, “Well, you see…” Her hand motions to the side wall and Logan immediately turns to see Audrey who has her knees pulled to her chest and her face hidden. His entire body relaxes- she’s here, she’s okay. She’s here.

“What happened?” 

Barbara smacks her lips together and straightens her glasses, “She beat up a classmate.” 

Much later, Logan would applaud himself for holding in the laugh that so desperately wanted to come out. “She what?”

“There was an altercation, and she physically assaulted Jonathan West.”

“She beat up a boy?”

“A sixth grader,” Audrey pipes up causing them both to look over at her. She immediately makes like a turtle and cowers back into her shell.

“She beat up a sixth grader at our surprise assembly,” Ms. Barbara tells him. “You can have a seat next to her, Principal Thomas will be out to see you in just a minute.”

Logan practically collapses in the small wooden chair next to his daughter. She doesn’t remove her face from where it’s pressed against her legs. “So, a sixth grader, huh?” 

Slowly, but surely, she pulls herself apart and he starts to see the red marks and dirt that cover her. Something inside of him swells with rage but also sadness- and for some reason it has him wanting to beat the shit out of an eleven-year-old. “What happened, Rey?” 

“He was making fun of Rylan,” she says in a tone that’s just a few notches above a whisper. “He said that Rylan was an accident and that I was only his friend because I felt bad for him,” Her eyes water, and Logan lifts his free hand to wipe away the few stray tears that fall. “And that’s not true! Rylan is my friend!” 

“So you did this to protect your friend?” 

She sniffles, “At first.” 

“At first?”

She nods, “Well, I pushed him and called him a liar at first,” she uses one of her tiny hands to push her unruly blonde hair out of her face. “Then he pushed me back and he told me that you were a murderer and that…” she chokes a little bit, emotions clearly surfacing again, “and that he’d seen a TV special and that…”

Logan’s chest grows tight as she breaths out, trying to compose herself like the little adult she tried so damn hard to be.

“And that youmurderedmom,” she offers quickly before burying her face back into her legs and wrapping her arms around her knees.

“I- what?”

There’s a beat- then nothing but silence.

Logan carefully places a hand on Audrey’s back. “Audrey, what did he say?” 

She remains silent.

“Audr-” he begins but is cut off by his daughter, who lifts her head with narrowed eyes. 

“He said you murdered mom!”

Yeah, Logan could definitely justify punching an eleven-year-old right about now. He knew he should have begged Veronica to let Audrey have her last name. The Echolls name is cursed- thanks to his father, and his sister who still hits the tabloids after every failed sobriety stint.

She’d damn near blown a gasket when he suggested that he just switch his name to Mars as well and leave the Echolls name to rot in the dust. “You’re a good person, Logan. And our little girl is gonna be so amazing that after she cures cancer and eliminates world hunger as the first blonde female LGBT friendly president, no one’s even gonna remember Aaron Echolls.”  

“Mr. Echolls, Audrey?”

Logan lifts his head up, so completely gone on the memory of his wife that he didn’t even hear Principal Thomas’ door open.

He beckons them in with his hands and Logan stands and offers a hand to Audrey who begrudgingly takes it. As she stands, Logan gets a good look at just how disheveled she is. Her high ponytail had fallen lose and there were strands of hair going in every direction. She had red marks on her puffy swollen cheeks and dirt covering the little striped sweater she’d picked out that morning. Her shoes were untied and her fingernails were encrusted with dirt. 

But the part that broke him the most were the little smears of blood and angry welts on her pint-sized knuckles. 

As they walked into the principal’s office and took a seat, Audrey immediately went back to her cocooned state- clearly ready to pretend that none of this was happening.

“Mr. Echolls, I’m sure you understand the severity of this situation. Audrey completely attacked a student at random…”

Both Echollses immediately changed their posture as they sat up ready to argue.

“At random?” Logan sounds before Audrey has a chance to. “Sir, she was protecting her friend- not to mention the fact that this bully was in her face making fun of her personal life.”

Principal Thomas looks up from under his glasses, “Now this is a different story than I got from Jonathan West and his brother.”

“Well, obviously, they lied.” Logan argues, and then adds, “Why does his brother even get a say?”

“Mr. Echolls, Audrey broke Jonathan West’s nose, and then when his brother stepped in, she attacked him as well.”

Exasperated, Logan turns to his daughter. She took on two older boys?

Audrey meets his eyes and shrugs.

Logan leans forward, ready to go up to bat for his little psycho, “Sir, why would a seven-year-old go after two boys without reason?”

“Look, Mr. Echolls, we know Audrey’s had a very troubling past, and…” 

“Jonathan said that my dad murdered my mom,” Audrey finally pipes up. “In front of everyone at the assembly.”

That shuts the principal up entirely.

If it wasn’t such a sad situation, Logan would have high-fived her for the perfect time to drop that bomb.

“Well, that certainly changes things,” Principal Thomas says after a moment, shuffling through some papers. “However, we don’t condone fighting at this school, so there are going to be consequences.” 

Logan leans back, déjà vu really hitting him hard.

“Two days of suspension, and a week of library recess. Effective immediately.”

Logan, knowing full well that his daughter usually spends recess in the library anyway, looks to her and then offers a nod. “Sounds fair.”

“I’ve had another student collect her things, they should be waiting outside for you.” 

Logan nods and Audrey quickly jumps from her seat, clearly ready to get the hell out of there. 

As they both head for the exit, he hears Principal Thomas pick up his phone and ask for Barbara to send the West brothers back in after they’re done with the nurse. 

A small smile of satisfaction lights his face as his daughter grabs her stuff and practically drags him to their car.

------

“She beat up two older kids? Dude, that’s pretty badass,” Dick says on speaker phone as Logan opens the oven to slide the big frozen cheese pizza inside. “I mean, I’m not saying you ever had any reason to doubt paternity, but this definitely solidifies that she’s your kid.”

Lifting the oven door closed, Logan reaches back for the phone- glancing at the stairs to make sure Audrey was still in the tub and not listening to his friend talk about how he was helping to raise the first female Rambo. He clicks the phone back to regular mode and lifts it to his ear. 

“It is pretty cool,” Logan says in a small proud voice. “But that’s not…” Adult mode, reactivate. “That’s not what worries me. These kids are starting to use me against her. And now I’m worried she might actually think that I…”

“You really think Rey believes you’re a murderer?”

Logan’s quiet.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lame.”

“Fuck you, Dick.”

“No, I’m serious. Your daughter loves you. She’s seven years old and last time we talked about it, she told me The Avengers movies weren’t that great cause ‘her dad could have stopped Thanos way quicker’ which is all kinds of wrong, but I didn’t correct the pipsqueak.”

Logan leans his back against the counter, a smile playing at his lips. “She really said that?”

“Yeah, to her you pretty much hung the moon, man. Some little piece of shit kid saying something stupid isn’t gonna change her mind,” This is why Logan kept Dick in his life for so long. Yeah, he didn’t have the cleanest past- but he was working to make himself better- fighting the same fight that Logan was when it came to overcoming the shadows of your family.

“I guess you’re right.”

“What’d you say those kids’ names were again?” 

Logan chuckles, “I didn’t.”

“C’mon man, I just wanna talk to ‘em,” Dick tries. 

“Dick, I’m not bailing you out for beating the shit out of some kids.” 

His friend sighs over the line, “Whatever. I bet Wallace will know. Teachers fuckin’ live for gossip.”

Logan hears the footsteps as they trail down the stairs, “Listen man, I gotta go. Audrey’s outta the tub. I’ll talk to you later.” A pause. “And please don’t jeopardize Wallace’s Teaching Career.”

“Noted.” Dick responds back. “But ignored.” 

Click.

Logan places his phone down on the counter as the tiny blonde walks in, looking a lot more put together then she was at school. Doing her own thing, she walks past her father without so much as a hello, and pulls a stool over to the counter. Wordlessly, she climbs up, opens up the cupboard near the fridge and pulls out a plastic cup.

Amused, Logan just sits back and observes.

Audrey places then cup on the counter before climbing down and pulling open the fridge door. Pulling out the bottom vegetable shelf, she uses it to lift herself up and grab the container of apple juice with two hands. She must realize her mistake because suddenly she has nothing to steady her balance back to the floor. She looks down, clearly trying to judge the drop, when Logan swoops, grabbing her from under her arm pits and helping her down. 

She sighs, “I coulda done it.”

He looks down at her, “Sure you could, I was more concerned about the juice than you.”

He extends a hand and she passes him the container of apple juice. He fills her cup up halfway and offers it down to her. “Thank you,” she says quietly and then spins to leave.

“Hey!” He bellows. “Not so fast.”

She freezes.

“You know we have to talk about what happened today.”

Her eyes quickly look down to her juice, “Do we though?” She asks quietly.

“Rey, you beat up a boy.” Logan tells her, standing tall- she’s not gonna cute her way outta this one. 

“Actually,” she starts matter-of-factly, “I beat up two boys.” 

“Audrey.” 

“I know!” She moans, “Fighting is bad and I shouldn’t do it. Use your words not your fists. Never fight fire with fire.” 

Logan deflates, shit, she is cute.

“Look, I’m not mad at you,” he starts. “And I’m not gonna say I’m disappointed, even though, I am a little. But what that kid said. You don’t believe it, right?”

“That you murdered mom?” 

It still stings to hear. All his life Logan’s been pinned with that accusation- and never once was it true.

“Yeah, that.” 

She shakes her head. 

“Good because, your mom’s not de- she’s…” He’s at a loss for words. Walking on eggshells was never his niche. 

“She’s in Paris, right?” Audrey offers, helping to dig Logan out of his hole. “Last week you said she was in Paris helping orphans just like Madeline.”

That’s right. When she’d sleepily asked about her mom after her bedtime story, Logan was too tired to come up with anything original, so he just stole from the Madeline book they’d been reading. “Yeah, kiddo. She’s still in Paris.”

Audrey smiles, “Cool.”

And that’s that. 

Clearly she wants to believe just as much as Logan, because she doesn’t quite question him on any of Veronica’s fake adventures anymore. 

“Can we watch a movie since I’m ‘spended from school tomorrow?”

Logan nods, “Yeah, I’ll watch the pizza, you go pick something on Netflix.” 

Audrey stands a little taller, as if she’d been expecting a no. She then turns on her heel and excitedly heads into the living room- and Logan knows full well that he’s in for another night of watching a Minions movie marathon.

Suddenly his phone dings with a new text. Curious, he walks back to the counter to glance down at it. 

C MACK
Hey, we need to talk. Call me tomorrow morning when the kid’s off at school.  

Logan’s heart beats faster than he’d care to admit. 

LOGAN
Kid’s suspended for two days. Come over for breakfast. She’ll probably sleep til 11.  

C MACK
Uh oh. Can’t wait to hear why. I’ll be there at 9.

A tiny voice pulls him away from his screen as he hears his daughter ask from the living room, “Hey dad, what’s Sendler’s List?”

“Not a chance, Rey,” He calls back. “Use the kids profile!”

“Ugh!”

-------

He takes one final swig before throwing the empty plastic bottle of water into his backseat. His eyes never once leave the dark road ahead of him- his headlights illuminating his path to redemption. His redemption.

The radio changes to some god awful pop music and it’s only a matter of moments before he’s slamming his hand down on the power button and growling at the oncoming silence.

So much silence.

He feels it from the tip of his toes to the base of his neck- and without warning, the invisible air wraps a fist around his throat and pulls.

Scrambling for purchase, his hand immediately goes to his Adam’s apple as he jerks at his thickly tied tie. Once the knot is loose, he slides it off and takes a deep breath of air. 

The quiet crisp night leaks through the windows of his car- and he keeps his mind on one thing and one thing only. Neptune, California.

This was everything he’d worked towards. All those long nights, kept awake by the rattling of his ghosts- they’d all soon be just a distant memory. Because soon, he’d have his retribution. His payback. His ghosts would finally leave him to rock peacefully at sea.

“Oh, baby.”  

His eyes grow wide.

He turns slowly towards the source of the sound… and there she is. Her long blonde hair still has the same tints of pink that she’d so joyfully colored them with that hot summer. His eyes draw down the slope of her nose to her red lips. Oh so red. So filled with color. No longer lifeless and blue. 

“Oh, baby.” She repeats this time, blinking her long lashes in his direction. “This won’t stop it. This won’t make it go away.”

Her hand reaches out to touch him and instinctively, he closes his eyes and leans in, thirsty for the heat of her touch.

But nothing comes in.

A horn pulls him from his reverie- and when he opens his eyes, she’s gone. 

Gone. Gone. Gone.  

He swerves his car back to the right side of the road, blinking rapidly and trying to regain his composure.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

With a deep breath, he grips the steering wheel even tighter.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

He growls to the haunting stillness, and then hits the power button on the radio- because shitty pop music was better than his subconscious right now. He just had a few more hours ahead of him.

In fact… 

The headlights of his car illuminate the large green “WELCOME TO SUNNY CALIFORNIA” sign as he passes it- zooming into the darkness closer to finally closing the pattern, finally ending the pain, finally getting what he so hungered for since he started this.

Gone. Gone. Gone.  

---------

Logan’s wearing a pair of red reindeer pajama pants and a white t-shirt marked with the logo of a band he’s never heard of when he pulls the door open for Mac.

“Ooooh, Christmas already?” Mac asks with a smile, a cardboard cup of coffee in both hands.

He runs a hand through his hair, currently sticking in several different directions. “It’s laundry day,” he offers before stepping aside to let her in. “Sorry, Rey kept me up late.” 

Mac nods, stepping inside, “How’s our troublemaker doing?

Logan offers a shrug, “Beating up boys and getting suspended from school.”

“So, The Logan Echolls special?”

Logan smiles lightly and offers a fake curtsy. “One of those for me?” He asks motioning towards the coffee.

Mac nods, forking over the cup and smiling as he lifts it to his nose and breathes it in. Veronica used to do that. Once he seems content, and at least a little more alive than before, he beckons her into the kitchen where he’s got out a mixing bowl of pancake mix and a container of eggs.

“So whattya got for me?” He asks her as she sits down and pulls her purse off her shoulder.

Before responding, Mac leans slightly and grabs a file folder out of the bag. “You’re not going to like this, but I got you an in.”

“What?”

“I got you an in. An appointment.”

Logan picks up the bowl of batter and slowly pours it over the hot frying pan. “I already have a therapist.” He tells her over the sizzle of the stove. 

“No, I don’t mean therapy, however, good for you.” He listens to her shuffle the papers before sliding the folder flat onto the table.

Turning to look he’s graced with the mugshot of one Robert Dunn. His blood runs cold and confusion and anger fill his features. “You got me an appointment with-”

“You’re gonna talk with him.”

Logan sets his jaw, his fists absently clenching and unclenching. “Talk with him?”

“Yes, you know… move your mouth, words coming out- talk. No fists.” Mac moves the mugshot over to reveal a very clean document. “I’ve typed out a list of questions for you. He’s going to think you’re Press. I want you to go in there and I want you to prove our theory.”

“Which is…?” 

She rolls her eyes, “Did Keith tell you nothing?” A pause. “You’re going to get him to own up to lying. Try to confuse him, overwhelm him. Lead him to believe there’s been another murder. Make the bastard start to panic that he’s going to be overshadowed by the real murderer.” 

“But what if he is the real murderer?” Logan asks turning away only to grab a spatula and flip the sizzling pancake over.

Mac huffs, “Unlikely. But if he is, then he won’t panic.” 

Logan directs his gaze back at her. “What makes you think he won’t keep it cool? And all this will prove nothing.” 

“Well,” She informs him, her eyes dropping to the document in front of her. “I got together with a psychologist- and he seemed to agree that this guy thrives off fame. So, if we threaten to bury him- make no one remember his name- he’ll undoubtedly react.”

“But why me?”

Mac glances back up, “Because you’re intimidating. And I know you can do this.”

“I-”

“AUNT MAC!” The voice sounds before they even realize the third presence in the room.

Mac is quick to hop off the stool she’d been seated on, as the tiny feet tap all the way to her side. Wrapping the little girl in a hug she happily replies, “Audrey girl!”

Audrey’s beaming as she begins to describe how unfair the school is for kicking her to the curb for sticking up for a friend and Mac goes to look at Logan, their conversation put on hold. “Y’all go grab a seat on the couch,” he tells the two. “I’ll bring out the pancakes when they’re ready.” 

“Okay!” Audrey replies, grabbing Mac by the hand and dragging her into the living room.

Logan takes a deep breath into the emptiness that follows their echoed giggles. Placing the spatula down for only a moment, his eyes start to scan the questions. Everything’s so detailed with handwritten notes in red pen where Mac clearly wanted to gage her opinion on each question.

He goes down the document when he sees it. 

Did you kill Veronica Mars? 

Did you kill Veronica Mars?

Did you kill Veronica Mars?