Hi everyone! I'm LifelongObsessor and this is my first Veronica Mars fanfic!
I just discovered Veronica Mars this past year and quickly worked my way through all three seasons. I am now I hardcore LoVe shipper and rewatch Logan/Veronica moments every opportunity I get.
I am a longtime reader of Veronica Mars fics but I am a first time writer for this fandom, so your patience would be much appreciated.
I should mention - spoilers for pretty much the entire series are below, so be careful!
Also, I don't own Veronica Mars or any of its wonderful characters. If I did, I'd be on a beach somewhere with the gang, listening to "Black Licorice" and playing fetch with Backup.
Without further ado, here is "Fairy Tales".
Ah, fairy tales. Tales of mystical lands and people we all aspire to base our lives off of. Whether we realize it or not, everyone tries to shape their life around that of a character in a fairy tale; we all pray to be rescued, or to rescue someone ourselves. We want to be the courageous prince or the beautiful princess so we work as hard as we can to become like one of these iconic figures we have known since childhood. This rarely works because, in complete fairness, fairy tales aren't true. They never really were. Fairy tales are nothing but cuddly, fluffy nonsense, meant to hide children from the evil of the world before they are mature enough to see it for themselves, to veil all the threats and pain out there with promises of true love and a happily ever after. But 'happily ever after' doesn't exist.
Logan Echolls was still a kid when he began to doubt in fairy tales. Aaron Echolls, even when his children were young, had never been much of a father. Logan had always gotten the worst beatings, and the most of his anger, but Trina had taken her fair share as a child, too. One incident in particular took place when Logan was eight years old; during a party the Echolls home, with the honored guest being a fresh young director of a film Aaron desperately wanted to be a part of, Trina had slipped and caused an antique vase to topple over onto their beloved guest's foot. Despite the director's assurance that his feet were completely fine and Lynn's promises of a friend who could repair the vase at a reasonable price, Aaron had been furious. After the party had drawn to a close, he had beaten Trina black and blue, ignoring her cries of apology and becoming even more enraged at her tears.
When Aaron had finally expelled most of his anger, he locked Trina in her bedroom; this was the final part of her punishment. Trina was not to leave her room for any reason until she had truly learned her lesson. Aaron stormed off to bed, Lynn following reluctantly at his heels like a frightened puppy, unable to do or say anything to change his mind.
Logan, however, wasn't going to let his sister be treated that way. Being only eight, there was no way he could physically take on Aaron, even though he was tall for his age. Instead, Logan turned to his knowledge of childhood literature. He recalled the story of Rapunzel, a princess locked in a tower by a cruel and evil being, unable to leave and forced to live out her days alone in a tower until she was rescued by a handsome prince. Logan knew what he had to do.
A conveniently placed drain pipe just outside Logan's window allowed him to shimmy up the side of the house and knock on Trina's second-storey bedroom window. Through the glass, he saw her look up from her face-down position on her bed and wipe away her tears before crossing to open the window. "Logan?" she asked, seeing him clinging to the pipe. "What are you doing?"
"Guess who I am," he said in reply. He puffed up his chest and, in the most elaborate, prince-like voice he could manage, dramatically cried, "RAPUNZEL, RAPUNZEL, LET DOWN YOUR HAIR!"
Trina burst out laughing, trying to muffle her giggles with her hands as to not wake her parents. "Nice try, Logan," she managed to say, "but this Rapunzel's hair isn't really up to the challenge." She tucked a lock of her short red hair behind her ear as if to reinforce her point.
Logan just shrugged. "That's what the drain pipe's for. Come on," he said to her, slowly climbing down. "Stick it to Dad, Princess. I'm busting you out of here."
Trina was silent, her eyes flitting from Logan's face to her bedroom door and back again. Finally, she sighed and said, "Okay! Okay!" She climbed out the window and she, too, slowly began her descent to the ground. Logan went ahead, waiting to catch his older sister if she fell. After all, that's what princes did – looked out for the damsel in distress.
That evening became one of best Logan and Trina ever spent together. They snuck away from the Echolls' mansion and found, of all things, an all-night mini putt. They played for hours, playfully insulting each other when the other one missed a shot and trying to steal the other's ball. They bought armloads of candy at a nearby gas station and sat on the bench outside enjoying the sugar rush that followed. It was the first time in ages Logan and Trina had spent time together and gotten along, the first time in what felt like a millennia since Logan had seen her smile.
Considering the evening a success and his princely duties to be done, Logan took Trina home. The two of them were still laughing when they saw Aaron glaring at them from the front porch.
The evening quickly turned sour; Trina was returned to her bedroom with an even longer sentence promised and Logan was quickly instructed to fetch a belt from Aaron's closet. There was no avoiding what happened next.
The next morning Logan came down for breakfast, still wincing from the previous night. Trina was still a prisoner in her own room and snapped at Logan when he tried to bring her some breakfast. It was then Logan realized Rapunzel was a lie; the princess can't be rescued. The prince can't bring her any happiness. The bad guy always wins.
That was the day Logan Echolls knew he had to grow up.
Veronica Mars was a sophomore in high school when she got her first dose of how untrue fairy tales could be.
Everything in Veronica's life had been going perfectly; she had a gorgeous, loving boyfriend, promising grades in all her classes that mattered and a fantastic best friend with whom she shared many misadventures and got into shenanigans. Even when she and Duncan split up, she somehow still felt as if everything was going her way … until the day Lilly Kane died.
Murder, her father told her. She could have guessed that herself from the moment she saw her beloved friend's body. Her head was caked in blood, her eyes blank yet somehow giving Veronica the distinct impressions she had been afraid when her life was stolen from her.
As Veronica collapsed into her father's arms, she was suddenly struck by how beautiful the water was and how perfect it was that Lilly, who swam like a fish, had died right next to the shimmering waves. Of course Lilly had preferred tanning outside of the pool even more.
For some reason, Veronica flashed back to when she was younger and her mother had read her "The Little Mermaid" as a bed time story. It was the story of a young girl, a mermaid, obviously, who loved the sea but longed for life on the land, a life with legs. To get what she wanted, the mermaid had been forced to give up her voice to an evil sea witch with the promise that she would get it back if she could snag her one true love.
The story had lied, though. Evil villains didn't just want some poor girl's voice. They took it, of course, when they fought to get their way, but it was just the icing on the cake; what the true villains were really after was a young girl's life. Lilly's had been taken, along with her voice, and she had even already found her true love in Logan. Of course love meant nothing to evil persons, either.
Lilly was gone. This mermaid would never swim again. She would never dance around her kitchen on her all too human legs. She would never again kiss her personal prince or hold his hand or flash him a smile. She would never again sing with Veronica loudly and off-key in the sanctuary of her bedroom, her own personal piece of the castle.
Fairy tales were not true, and it was only now Veronica was beginning to see that.
The older Logan got, the worse his opinion on fairy tales became.
He stood uncomfortably by his mother as he waited to say his final good-byes to the only girl he had ever loved. Lilly's body lay on display in her casket and he watched with tears in his eyes as Veronica's father gently took her hand and pulled his sobbing daughter back to her seat. How could Lilly be gone? How could she have left her best friend this way? Left him? Left her brother?
Upon thinking of Duncan, Logan turned and saw him hovering silently near the back of the crowd. Duncan hadn't said a word since Lilly had been found on the pool deck, but he had wordlessly agreed to come to the funeral. Logan tried to catch his eye to flash him a supportive smile, but Duncan seemed lost in space. There was no reaching him. Of course not.
Logan finally got his chance to say goodbye and stepped up tentatively to where Lilly lay. As cheesy as it sounded, she really could have been sleeping if he didn't know any better. Logan took a moment to pretend that she really was just lost in slumber, that in a moment she would roll over and lazily open her eyes. He stopped that thought quickly – it was a much too painful exercise.
What was he supposed to say to her? Rest in peace? That kind of went without saying. I love you? That she already knew, of course. Logan had a sudden urge to kiss her; it made sense, in a way. It was the ultimate final goodbye, the perfect symbol of everything he felt for her. He knew, though, if he was being completely honest with himself, that it was because he wanted her back; that was how it worked in all the fairy tales, right? Snow White? Sleeping Beauty? The beautiful princess is assumed dead until true love's kiss wakes her from eternal slumber. This was a foolish thought and Logan knew it, but should he at least try? Just in case?
He glanced away and momentarily caught Veronica's eyes; they were red and bloodshot from all her tears, but strangely expressive. Do it, Logan, her eyes seemed to shout at him. Please do it. Bring her back. For me.
Logan turned back and kissed Lilly squarely on the forehead before he could talk himself out of it. He skin was cold, something Logan should have expected but somehow had forgotten about. He shuddered as he leaned back. Lilly's eyes remained closed, her posture still frozen and stiff. Fairy tales had lied to him again. Dead people were supposed to stay dead.
As Logan stepped back from Lilly's coffin and prepared to walk away from the one girl he had ever loved he once again caught Veronica's saddened stare. I'm sorry, her eyes seemed to say this time. I miss her, too.
Logan looked away; it hurt too much.
It was that same year when Veronica's faith in fairy tales was destroyed forever.
Shelly Pomroy was having a party, a large end-of-the-year extravaganza. How anyone could celebrate something as trivial as this when Lilly Kane was dead was beyond Veronica, but it did seem like an opportunity to try to change.
Veronica had nearly taken to calling herself Cinderella at this point. She was the sad, broken girl who fell victim to mean siblings, or in her case peers, and was forced to suffer by their handiwork. Sure, Veronica wasn't being treated like a maid or anything, but she had fallen victim to a great number of pranks that involved tidying; someone had filled her locker with dirt. Another time she was pelted with paint balls. Her books had been knocked out of her arms on many different occasions.
The one good thing about being Cinderella, Veronica thought, was that in the end she had the last laugh. She went to the ball, dressed like a princess, and found true love with the handsome prince. Veronica wasn't really in search of love at the moment, but dressing up and going out did seem like a good idea. And who knew – maybe she could find an opportunity to talk with Duncan. The evening surely wouldn't be a total bust.
Veronica had never been more wrong.
Waking up the next morning to find her make-up smeared across her face, her hair a wreck and her underwear missing, Veronica once again had to face the harsh lies of her childhood. Cinderella wasn't envied at the ball; she was despised and pitied. She didn't spend the night dancing with a price, she spent it drugged and passed out on a strange bed in a teenage girl's house. Most importantly, Cinderella's true love never found her; a rapist did.
Fairy tales were stupid. Veronica hated them. She hated her life. She hated everything. This was the day Veronica's last shred of childhood left her; she became cold, removed. Veronica knew she was never going to be a princess, and you know what? That was just fine.
Amazingly, after a few years Logan and Veronica were almost ready to renounce their opinions on fairy tales. Life for the past few months had been wonderful; they had both gotten into Hearst, conquered many of the demons that had haunted them in the past and, most importantly, had found each other. Whoever said true love only existed in fairy tales had been wrong – true love was real. Logan and Veronica had found it in each other. Fairy tales, on the other hand, were phony. Right?
Suddenly neither of them were so sure. Maybe the prince did get to save the girl; Logan had rescued Veronica a number of times over the years, and each time had brought them closer together. Veronica was no damsel in distress, but she certainly did have enough class and beauty to be considered a princess. Perhaps the prince did get the girl in the end, they thought. Maybe …
That all came crashing down when Veronica found out about Madison.
There was no fairy tale in the world Veronica could compare her life to, now; the prince NEVER went off and had sex with the evil witch. The princess never felt betrayed or hurt or had nightmares about her prince's sexcapades. The prince never had to plead for the princess to stay, never had to explain his actions or how he really felt.
This was it. It was over.
Fairy tales were, in Logan and Veronica's eyes, dead. Forever.
Stosh Piznarski had always believed in fairy tales.
He was always the prince, of course; dashing and handsome and a real catch for whichever princess would be lucky enough to have him. His relationship with Veronica, though, reminded him of a different childhood tale; Peter Pan.
Piz knew he was not the most mature man on the planet; he made lame jokes, was extremely awkward around girls, was reluctant to swear and loved to watch cartoons. This was what he thought made him so special; he was Peter, the boy who was forever young at heart. He would lead his own serious, wise-beyond-her-years Wendy to new exciting places and show her that being a kid and having youth was okay. In fact, it was something to be cherished.
This was true until that day in the cafeteria. Logan had beaten some guy to a bloody pulp right in front of Piz's eyes. Logan now stood bleeding, a silly grin plastered across his as he looked to Veronica for approval.
Piz turned to face his girlfriend, his princess, hoping to see disgust or anger or some other unpleasant emotion etched on her face; he didn't.
Stosh Piznarski had always believed in fairy tales … and he still did.
But now he knew his life wasn't one.
Logan was the prince who rescued the girl. Veronica was the princess who was eternally in love with him.
Piz wasn't a part of this particular tale at all.
Logan eventually left the cafeteria after a hasty apology to Piz about something or other. Veronica's eyes followed his retreating figure until she felt Piz's eyes watching her. She turned to him, ashamed. Piz took in her expression and suddenly knew what he had to do.
His life wasn't a fairy tale … but Veronica's could be.
She opened her mouth to say something, but Piz put a finger to her mouth before she could speak. He looked deep into Veronica's eyes and felt the covers of his and their story together coming together to close the tale. With more confidence than Piz had ever voiced in his life, he opened his mouth and said, "Go."
Veronica didn't seem to understand what he was saying at first, but as she continued to stare into Piz's eyes it all suddenly fell into place. A sad grin broke out on her face as she leaned in to give Piz a big hug. She whispered, "Piz, I'm sorry," in his ear as she held him close for the last time.
Piz smiled and softly whispered back, "I'm not."
Veronica pulled back from him and, with one last smile in his direction, turned and jogged after Logan. Piz watched them for a moment. Finally he pulled up a chair and sat down at a nearby table, smiling silenty to himself.
Logan and Veronica were back together by the next day. Piz caught them kissing passionately in the hallway as he headed off to lunch and was about to turn the other way when Logan called his name and invited him to eat with them. Piz blinked, surprised, but ultimately accepted his invitation.
Logan turned out to be a really cool guy. By the end of lunch he had agreed to take Piz out surfing, as he had never been, and had introduced him to a really sweet girl from his weightlifting class. Wallace had come to join them; so did Mac and her boyfriend Max. Lunch seemed to fly by remarkably fast as everyone swapped stories, stole food and enjoyed each others' company.
It was when Piz was on his way to his next class when he realized something;
Life was one crazy, unconventional fairy tale. People break up, make-up and lather, rinse, repeat, but eventually everything does work out.
Piz smiled at his latest realization as he continued down the hallway.
Logan and Veronica watched him go when they were struck by a realization of their own; when the stories said "and they all lived happily ever after," sometimes they really did mean everyone.
Piz could be happy. Their friends could be happy. They could be happy.
Maybe there was some truth behind those old stories after all.
I would really love some reviews if anyone has the time! ;)
SELF PLUG ALERT: If there are any Doctor Who fans out there, I have written a couple fics you should check out. Just sayin'.
Thanks for reading, and may your life always be epic.