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Veronica knows she should have seen the signs. Logan had been her friend for years before Lilly died, before everything had gone to shit.
She wonders whether she missed the evidence because of her naivety or because Aaron Echolls is actually a good actor. It isn’t because Logan hides the pain.
Her guilt leads her to second guess calling Trina. The woman might be Logan’s sister, but she had also mocked Logan’s abuse in the Sunset Regent.
“You’re sure?” Leo asks her, leaning an elbow against the frame of her car door. He’s repeated himself a few times now, questioning her judgment. It pisses Veronica off.
“Yes,” she replies, rolling her eyes and staring at her steering wheel. She hears Logan mumbling under his breath in the back seat, still in just his underwear. “I’ve got this one, Deputy.”
Leo sighs but finally relents. “I’ll call you later, Veronica.”
With that, Leo climbs into his squad car and leaves the dance; Veronica spots him looking at her in the rear view mirror even as he’s driving away.
Shifting her LeBaron into reverse, Veronica backs up, taking care to go slow enough that Logan doesn't bounce around. He’s secured with a seatbelt, but she doesn’t want to take any chances, especially since an accident would mean police and Logan is currently both underage and drunk.
It takes her a few minutes to get back to her apartment from the school. Logan doesn’t say a word during the drive, but Veronica feels his gaze drilling holes in the back of her head. She’s sure he’s confused, wondering why she’s being so nice to him.
In truth, Veronica is curious to know that answer, too. Is it residual friendship, leftover from before Lilly died? Or does she pity him now?
Logan wouldn’t want the latter. She knows that.
When they arrive at her complex, Veronica helps him out of the car, supporting his weight as they climb the stairs. Her mind flashes back to Andre and Sarah; Veronica stumbles when she hears the gunshot inside her memories, losing her grip on Logan’s shoulder.
“Whoa there, Mars,” he says, miraculously catching himself on the railing. “Remind me not to rely on you next time.”
His words sting but Veronica ignores him and refocuses. It’s been months since the shooting, but her brain refuses to cooperate and forget. They reach her front door without further incident.
Steeling her nerves, Veronica digs out the key and pauses.
“Behave, Logan. No quips about me doing the football team or my mom drinking herself under the table. Got it?”
He nods once. “Aye, aye, Capitan.”
This was definitely a mistake .
She opens the door and pushes, dragging her wobbly former enemy behind her. Veronica hopes her dad is already asleep since the dance had run late into the evening, but he’s sitting at their kitchen table, a glass of water between his fingers, staring right at her.
“Hi, honey,” he says, raising an eyebrow at the barely-conscious boy at her side. “Leo called.”
Of-freaking-course. “Did he, now. What did the good deputy have to say?”
“He said you packed a drunk boy into your car.” Keith eyes Logan meaningfully. “I can’t say he was wrong.”
Veronica rolls her eyes. “You know Logan. He’s had a tough day. I didn’t tell you this, but I’ve been helping him search for his mom. He thought she hadn’t killed herself, and we found a credit card charge for one of her accounts.” She pauses, closing her eyes and steadying her breath. “Turns out it was Trina.”
Her dad stops whatever he is about to say. “I see. Why didn’t you bring him to his own home? You two aren’t exactly friends these days, right?”
He’s not wrong . She’s told her dad about the insults; it had been impossible not to once she came home crying the first time Logan smeared her mom’s name, pre-Shelly’s party. Veronica understands her dad’s hesitance with Logan, but he hasn’t seen the gradual thawing between them. She’s not sure exactly when it began, maybe when they made Lilly’s memorial video, maybe after, but it’s there and it’s real.
“We’re not enemies as much, either,” she admits, glancing down at Logan to make sure he’s still asleep. “I learned some stuff about him.” Veronica is intentionally vague; the reality of Aaron’s physical abuse has begun to set in, but she doesn’t want to spill Logan’s dark secret without his permission, even to her dad. It’s not her right. “I’m going to set him up on the bed and clean him up, then I’ll sleep on the couch. Please?” she asks when Keith frowns.
“I’m not comfortable with this,” he says, and she can tell she’ll need to put on the puppy dog eyes.
“He’s hurting and drunk. His dad won’t understand, and I don’t want him to see Trina right now.” She doesn’t say that she’d considered calling Logan’s sister before thinking better of it. “She said some mean shit to him.”
Keith gasps at her language, but also closes his eyes and relents. “Fine. You take the couch. I’m going to check up on him. And Veronica?” She pauses from where she’s begun to corral Logan. “I expect to hear more about this new normal between you two. Got it?”
Veronica nods, not looking forward to it. She hauls Logan to his feet and slowly walks them toward her room, now laser-focused on caring for him.
...
It takes her a minute to get his shoes off once they get into her room. She plops him onto the edge of the bed, his stupid Tom Cruise sunglasses slipping from his eyes onto the mattress. He’s conscious, but barely, doing nothing to help her.
“You didn’ need to d’fend me,” he slurs suddenly. “Was shitty.”
Veronica pauses. She’s crouched next to her closet, his sneakers in her hands as she prepares to put them down. Had he heard her and her dad?
“What do you mean?” she asks slowly.
“Don’t wan’ your pity. Trina, she’s a bitch. Dad can fuck ‘mself.”
She moves from the closet to the foot of the bed, then squats in front of him. Taking his hands between hers, she rubs small circles over his palms. “Logan, I don’t pity you. You’re my friend.” The word comes out through gritted teeth, but Veronica finds it isn’t a lie. Not fully. “We were friends once, you know? Why can’t we be that again?”
Logan laughs, but it’s hysterical, maniacal, the type she’s heard in TV shows when the bad guy is revealing their diabolical plan. She imagines it’s Ted Danson in front of her making that wicked sound.
“I was awful to you,” he says. “There’s no coming back from that.”
“I gave as good as I got.” It hadn’t always been true, but more recently? She’s been giving him a hefty dose of her brand of justice.
“The bong,” he says, as if a light bulb goes off in his head. He giggles. “I knew it was you, but it’s nice to hear you kinda admit it?”
She hasn’t actually told him it was her, but Veronica didn’t want to correct him in this state. Her mind is too caught up with the implications. If Aaron really is abusing Logan, her actions may have led to Logan getting hurt. It’s not her fault - she couldn’t have known - but it stings. How has she missed it?
Glancing down at Logan, she’s startled to see something like forgiveness in his eyes. “It’s not your fault.”
How did he...?
Before she can continue her thought, he speaks again. “I deserved what you did to me. If it wasn’t the bong, it would have been the bad grades or talking back to him. Abusers don’t need a reason, Veronica.”
The word hits her full force. It’s the first time she’s heard Logan call his father it in plain terms. She could have maybe excused Trina’s offhanded comment as an exaggeration, but no longer.
“I’m sorry,” she says, though she isn’t sure what for.
“What did I say about pity?”
It occurs to her that Logan appears surprisingly sober for this discussion; maybe the serious nature shocked him alert. He’s staring at her without blinking, his hands splayed behind him on the comforter. She’s still squatting and finally gets up to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
“It’s not pity,” she tries to explain gently. “I don’t know what it is. Sorrow? Regret? Compassion? I don’t think less of you. We were practically best friends. After Lilly, it was you, even before Duncan.”
“You couldn’t have known. I hid it well.”
How does he know she’s been blaming herself for missing what’s right in front of her face? It’s scary. “I’m a detective, Logan. I can’t not blame myself.” Her dad never noticed it, either, but that doesn’t matter to her right now.
Logan moves a hand to her kneecap. “Please don’t.”
She relents, at least aloud. “Okay.”
Their conversation over for now, Veronica pushes him gently onto his back. “I’m going to get you changed and under the covers, bud. You’re still drunk.”
He grins goofily and holds his arms out. “Ravish me.”
Veronica rolls her eyes but reaches for the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over his head. She barely holds in the gasp. She’d expected some bruises but the sheer level of them, especially since from her vantage point she can see his back, shocks her. Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them back. Logan doesn’t need her to cry for him right now.
She resists the urge to rush to her bathroom and grab a washcloth to clean some of the whip-like marks on his back. Some look fresh, but others are faded scars; Veronica tilts his chin toward her and presses her forehead to his. It’s a silent gesture, her comforting him without words and without tacit acknowledgement.
He shudders in her grasp and begins breathing heavily. Veronica thinks he’s on the verge of breaking down again and the memory of holding him in the hotel lobby returns unbidden. She’d never seen him like that and never wants to again. Tightening her hold, Veronica hugs him to her and strokes his hair.
That’s the scene her dad walks into her room on. As a matter of principle, she’d left the door ajar so he wouldn’t flip his shit. He stares at them in shock.
Veronica holds a finger to her lips since Logan hasn’t noticed her father’s presence. Thankfully, Keith nods and backs away.
She sits there and holds Logan until his breathing evens off and she hears him begin to lightly snore. Gently disentangling their bodies, she ignores the pang in her chest at the loss of contact.
He’s still bare-chested on her bed but Veronica doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, and dressing him now might do that. He’s also in his underwear from the costume; Veronica lays him down and covers him with her comforter, then sneaks out undetected.
As she expects, her dad is waiting at the table, repeatedly tapping his pointer finger against the surface of the table. He has one eye on her, the emotion welling in it a sure sign he’d noticed.
“His dad?”
She can’t verbally admit it without feeling like she’s broken Logan’s confidence, so Veronica nods instead.
“Oh, honey.”
Veronica hates that it took her dad learning about Logan’s home life to be okay with his presence in their house, but she knows she’s reacted similarly.
Sitting down next to her dad, Veronica stares sullenly at the placemat in front of her. “Trina mentioned it today. Something about the big bad wolf and cigarette burns.”
Keith sighs. “I never suspected.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Veronica closes her eyes. “How do I help him?”
“I can talk to Sacks and see if Logan would talk to a counselor, maybe. I’ve dealt with abuse cases before. They’re tricky.”
She’s already aware of the potential pitfalls in prosecuting Aaron - or even charging him - and Lamb’s incompetence and general disposition toward Logan complicates it further.
The father-daughter pair lapse into silence once she nods to indicate she’s okay with the plan. Veronica is running through past interactions with Aaron Echolls in her mind.
He’s always seemed shady, but in a ‘Hollywood actor and 09er’ way. She’s seen him raise his voice at Logan, but had never been necessarily afraid of him. How much worse is it in private?
Logan has always seemed too clumsy for his level of athleticism, but the incidents were so few and far between that they never raised a red flag in Veronica’s mind. She just assumed he’d made a mistake while surfing.
She doesn’t dare let her mind wander and wonder how bad Aaron had hurt him on the rare occasions Logan had missed school due to injuries. Those scars on his back wouldn’t have been noticeable on the outside, and Logan has always maintained an outwardly cheery disposition, never letting on what was happening at home.
Veronica remembers initially finding it weird that he’d wear a shirt in his pool, but had gotten used to it so long ago that it seemed commonplace.
“I’m going to go check on him,” she says suddenly, getting up and ignoring her father’s look. She’d rather justify her actions after the fact.
Opening the door to her bedroom, Veronica stands under the frame for a beat, admiring the way Logan looked peaceful in his sleep. He’s kicked off the blanket somehow and is lying on his belly, head on the pillow, face turned to her. His soft expression, light snoring, and vulnerable position are a sharp contrast to the bruises visible on his back.
She sits down next to him and traces his back with her finger, stopping at a fresh wound. It doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned, and she realizes it must be from after Lynn died. It makes sense that Logan doesn’t have anyone else to help him.
Making up her mind, Veronica leaves her room and goes to her bathroom to retrieve antiseptic and a wet hand towel. With Logan fast asleep, it gives her time to be a friend and take care of him the way she should have half a decade ago, when they first met.
Veronica plops back onto her bed and uses the damp fabric on his wounds. Then she sprays the alcohol on his cuts and bruises before wiping away the blood. She knows she’s not a pro at it, but Veronica hopes it helps keep them from getting infected if they aren’t already.
“I’m so sorry, Logan,” she whispers, hoping he’s asleep.
Yawning, Veronica decides to lay next to him and close her eyes. She knows her father will throw a fit in the morning, but Logan has gravitated to one half of the bed and it’s big enough for two people. Why should she sleep on the couch when there’s a perfectly good bed right there?
She suspects Logan won’t mind and angles her body to act as a shield for him, protecting him from the world the best she can.
Drifting off to sleep, Veronica smiles, hoping tonight is a turning point in their relationship.
...
Glancing up at the tiny object above her, Veronica squints and tries to discern what she’s seeing. It looks almost like a lens, but why would there be a camera in here?
Her first instinct is to blame Logan, but they’re past that doubt. The night of the dance changed things between them. She regrets her momentary bout of insanity after Tad revealed Logan had the liquid X.
“Veronica?” Logan asks, returning to the poolhouse. He’s got two drinks on him, one in each hand, and he’s looking at her like she’s grown a third ear. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t you see it?” Veronica points up at the ceiling, specifically at the black box in the center of the fan. With her height, she can’t quite reach it but Logan doesn’t need her to. He walks over to the bed and climbs on next to her, extending a hand.
“Is that... a camera?” Logan frowns. “Why would there be a camera?”
Veronica snorts. She wonders whether, without her night with Logan after the dance, she might blame him for the camera and run away. It’s the Veronica thing to do. And it has even crossed her mind despite what she knows about Logan now.
“I would assume it’s your dad’s.”
Logan glances at her, surprised. Given that his dad had just thrown him a surprise, wrongly-timed birthday extravaganza, she understands the timing sucks, but Veronica hasn’t forgiven or forgotten. Aaron is on her radar. The day the Casablancas kids had showed up had been very awkward for her. Riding in the car with her boyfriend’s abuser was not on her bucket list.
“I... He...”
“Logan, let’s just look for evidence it’s his equipment. Do you see that wire?” She points at the black cable running to the dresser then climbs off the bed, walking over. Veronica opens the door and isn’t surprised to find nothing out of the ordinary. Aaron wouldn’t put it out in the open. She tilts her head and looks above her to figure out exactly where the wiring leads.
Logan walks up beside her and reaches up to tinker with a button. Suddenly, another door swings out and they see electronic equipment, monitors, and drawers.
“Disturbing,” he mutters under his breath. She can’t help but agree. Logan grabs at the remote they can now see and switches the TV on. The bed immediately pops onto the screen and Veronica wanders back to the mattress. She stands on the center and waves, confirming that the video feed is live and trained on the bed.
“Well, I feel gross,” Veronica says. She doesn’t blame Logan for it. It must be his dad.
“Look, there are tapes.” Logan has opened one of the drawers and removes a cassette for her to see. “Should we see what’s on them?”
Veronica nods and gets off the bed to stand next to him. She reaches down and intertwines their hands together, squeezing reassuringly. She wants Logan to know she’s in it with him and will support him. Neither of them know what to expect.
They pop a tape into the player and wait. The screen buzzes to life with a grainy image. As they watch Aaron and a random woman show up, Veronica’s mind is whirring at the possibilities.
She’s not sure how, but dots are connecting and she hates the picture. If she’s right, Logan will need her support more than ever. Trying to confirm a hunch, she pulls the drawer out and analyzes the dates on them, hoping there won’t be any gaps.
No dice. Shit.
Veronica groans and weakly smiles when Logan glances at her, concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing to worry about right now. Tomorrow, OK?” He hesitantly nods. “Let’s go to your actual room, Logan. Can we manage that?”
“Sure,” he agrees, still confused. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on in that noggin’ of yours? A determined Veronica Mars usually doesn’t mean good things for me.”
She laughs despite herself. “I want to enjoy the rest of our night. I know that’s sudden, but we just watched your dad in bed with someone. Let’s think about that tomorrow.”
He nods once and pulls her behind him, much like how they’d initially gone to the poolhouse. Veronica lets herself be swept up in the magic of a relationship with Logan; she grins when he hoists her up by the waist, kissing her neck in the way he loves.
It’s amazing to her how natural and comfortable she is with him. Her dad knows about them; after their talk the morning after the dance, they’d talked more about Logan. When she kissed Logan, she admitted it to her dad and he was surprisingly okay with it, having softened his stance.
They sneak up the stairs to Logan’s bedroom, winding their way around the party stragglers who hadn’t yet left. Most of their classmates have already gone home, but Dick, Beaver, Casey, Madison, and a few others are still there, drinks flowing between them. Aaron is nowhere to be seen, which unnerves Veronica.
Logan opens his door and leads them in. He sits on the bed and beckons for Veronica to join him. She’s feeling bolder after their kisses in the poolhouse and climbs back into his lap, facing him. Logan grins and meets her lips in an easy kiss. Despite the familiarity, their kisses lose none of the passion and Veronica melts in his embrace.
After a beat, she pulls away and whispers against his lips, “You should go pro in that.”
He laughs. “Only with you.” Then his eyes get serious. “I hope you know that.”
She does, but it doesn’t hurt to hear. “How did we get here?”
“I’m not sure.” His eyes glaze over, and Veronica wonders if he’s thinking of a similar comment she’d made against his Xterra. “I’m glad we did, though.”
Veronica kisses him again, this time pouring her pent up lust and emotion into her actions. She wants Logan to know how deeply she’s come to care for him and how much being with him means to her.
They fit together perfectly every time they kiss and this is no exception. Logan eventually moves back to his favorite spot, peppering her neck with light kisses. His lips create a pleasant tingle in her skin and she moans.
Logan pulls back, giving her a smile. “If we keep going, we might not stop,” he says, and she wonders whether she wants that. It’s moving fast; a few hours ago, she was mad at him and afraid of what she would learn. She’s pretty sure she’ll want to go all the way with him eventually, but he’s right that it shouldn’t be now.
“Let’s just hold each other, please?” she asks, and pushes him onto his side on the bed. Veronica snuggles into him, pressing her back into his chest.
Logan wraps his arms around her. “Sure thing, Bobcat.”
He’s never called her that before but she can’t say she minds. They’re solitary creatures that defend their homes, similar to her. She’s not shy, but the comparison is still okay by her.
Veronica closes her eyes and relaxes in his arms, content to know they were okay and Logan cared for her. She’ll deal with the rest later.
…
The ringing of her phone wakes Veronica up from a light sleep some time later. She glances at the caller ID and is startled to realize it’s her dad, who she never told she wasn’t coming home.
Getting out of the bed, she checks to make sure Logan is still asleep - it takes more to wake him - then slips quietly into the hallway. She’s not sure where Aaron might be, so Veronica heads downstairs. From past experience, she knows the stairs don’t creak.
“Hi, dad,” she whispers, preparing for the oncoming explosion.
“Don’t ‘hi, dad’ me, young lady,” her father hisses.
Uh oh.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“Last I’d heard you were just going to hang out for an hour at Logan’s.” His voice is still angry, but there’s also a hint of worry in his tone and Veronica hates that she’s about to compound it.
Veronica sighs. “His dad threw a birthday party for him.” She ignores his snort, since they both know it’s not Logan’s birthday. “Duncan was here and he flipped out.” Pausing, she takes a deep breath to gather her wits. “I also found out something big, Dad. Really big. Lilly case-related.” She looks around just to be positive nobody can hear her. “Can you come with me to the Kanes’ house in the morning?”
Keith’s voice is puzzled. “Sure. Care to fill me in, though?”
“I think Aaron killed Lilly.”
...
Everything happens quickly the next morning. Logan is shocked she hadn’t told him her suspicions, but she’s able to calm him down by reminding him he’s doubted her detective skills with this case before.
“I was right all along,” she’d said, hoping there was no hint of ‘I told you so’ in her voice.
Logan thankfully just shakes his head as he kisses her forehead. He’s a mess, rumpled hair and blood-shot, sleep-deprived eyes. Her dad had come to get both of them minutes after she’d finished explaining his suspicions.
They were able to escape the house without Logan’s dad noticing.
When they wake up in the morning, Logan collects himself enough to take lead on the plan. He retrieves the evidence from Lilly’s bedroom, right where they thought it might be, and brings it back.
It’s hard for Veronica to watch, so she cannot imagine how much worse it is for her boyfriend. She squeezes his shoulder the entire time, standing right at his back, offering comfort and support as best she can.
Once they have the evidence in hand, they take it to Lamb and hope he has a single decent bone in his body.
“You expect me to believe that Aaron Echolls, the actor, murdered Lilly Kane after sleeping with her?” Lamb questions them once they provide their version of the facts to him.
“Don’t be an idiot, Don,” her dad says, glaring at the sheriff. “At least bring him in for statutory rape, if nothing else.”
They hand over the tapes - copies they’d made, of course - and leave. Veronica, for one, is ready to put this case behind her and enjoy a summer with her new boyfriend.
Logan, she thinks, is just happy they have each other.
...
A week later, Veronica thinks their lives might be getting back to normal.
Her dad has a meeting with Lamb, so he’s not around as they tune into that evening’s Padres’ game. They’re welcoming June with a weekend series against the Cubs, and Veronica is trying to teach Logan a bit about baseball.
He likes it - always has - but between her and Keith, this is a baseball house. The Padres had won the Friday night game, but the Cubs currently had the edge here.
“What does the .301 mean?” Logan asks, pointing at the screen. The Padres second baseman, Geoff Blum, is up and batting .301.
“It’s how often they get a hit,” she explains, snuggling into his side. Her feet dangle off the side of the couch.
They’re so far away from Aaron and Lilly and Duncan and the rest of the residents of this town. She’s lounging on a couch, enjoying a Saturday baseball game with her boyfriend, exactly where Veronica wants to be.
“Does that make him the best second baseman?”
“Maybe in the N.L.,” she says, stopping when he looks confused. “There’s two leagues. American and National. Baltimore has this great second baseman named Brian Roberts. I voted for Blum to be an All Star, though.”
Logan nods; she’s sure he’s still confused, but he can catch up as they go. The Padres lose the game in a blowout, eleven to five. She’s kind of upset, but her team is good and Cubs fans deserve nice things. Plus, with how smoothly the case against Aaron is going, nothing can break her good mood.
Veronica stands up to grab a bowl. She pours pretzels into it and then dumps some mustard in a small dish. When she returns to the couch, she sets out the snacks in front of them on the table and pats Logan’s knee.
He’s licking his lips, staring at the food. Veronica rolls her eyes. “Go ahead.”
When Logan digs in, Veronica closes her eyes and replays the last few months in her mind. Ever since the Christmas party where Aaron had gotten stabbed, it’s been one thing after another, an endless stream of parties and shocks and disasters.
They’ve made it through as a couple, and only Aaron is in trouble now. Duncan is mad at them, but he’ll get over it, she thinks. Even if he doesn’t, Veronica is happy, living life with a great boyfriend, and she can take care of him and make sure they remain happy as long as he’s willing to have her.
She’s pretty sure it’s going to be a long time.