Title: Aftermath
Author: Winter Ashby (rosweldrmr)
Disclaimer: Zoey 101© Dan Schneider & Nickelodeon
Rating: K+
Timeline: Now, I KNOW that Blix Van happens after Wrestling Match, and I mention that event, even though this is supposed to take place directly after the meet, so just ignore that. Other than that, this should be canon-complacent.
Summary: Why did Logan really get beat up by Javers after the Wrestling Match? (Unrequited Logan & Zoey and slight hints of Logan & Quinn)
Authors Notes: I have been trying to finish this fic for so long now. I started it after I saw Blix Van. (A long time ago.) But I kept putting it off, because I didn't know how I wanted to end it. But then the new season started, and I decided that Quinn & Logan were the best couple ever!! (See the Eskimo Kiss moment if you don't believe me.) So, in the end, this fic became a little different than I intended to. Although, there was always a hint of Logan/Quinn - there is a lot more now. I never really thought Zoey/Logan was a good pair, I just always thought that he totally had a thing for her. Thus, because unrequited Logan/Zoey and hints of Quinn/Logan. I hope you all enjoy, and watch the new season. Sooooooo cute.
"Let her fight her own battles
"Let her fight." Logan clenched his fists at his sides and stood, stiff-backed, as he repressed the urge to stop the match before it began. It took everything in him not to scream at her, at coach, at the ref, at Javers, but mostly at himself.
He watched Zoey crouch down in front of Javers. And the whole world slowed to a crawl. He could smell the sweat of the other wrestlers, feel the chill of the air conditioning on his heated skin, watched the way her hair moved under the ear-guard straps, and saw the muscles in her back pull taunt.
"Let her fight." He repeated it again, as he had been doing all day. Watching her walk up to the mat over and over was almost too much to take, even if he already knew what coach was planning. There was always the slightest chance that someone wouldn't care that she was a girl. Or she'd be stupid enough to fight Javers, who Logan knew, without a doubt, didn't mind beating up a girl. To a person like Javers, it made no difference.
The last thing in the world Logan Reese wanted to see was Zoey Brooks being slammed into the plastic mats of the PCA wrestling arena. But he was also smart enough to know that once she'd set her mind to something, there was no turning back. She was too stubborn to back down, too headstrong, too many things Logan didn't understand.
The whistle blew, long and shrill.
He stopped breathing. And before the sound of the whistle faded, Logan was already moving. She could fight another day, another opponent, one that wasn't a psychopath. One that wasn't going to tear her to pieces while he did nothing but watch. He honestly didn't care if she hated him for the rest of her life, there was no way he could just stand there and watch.
But before he could get halfway to the ring, she was already suspended in midair.
It was like watching a nightmare come to life. Her arms were over her head, one ear guard was pulled to the side, and her hair was beginning to fall around her face. Her legs were completely off the mat, as Javers flipped her, effortlessly, and aimed her head directly at the floor.
He wanted to look away. He would have traded everything, every possession, every last penny he had to just not care that Zoey was about to be, at the very least, rendered unconscious right in front of him. He didn't want to care, didn't want to ever feel like that about her. But he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off her. He watched, helplessly, as her head crushed into the mats, the force of it making them bow at the tips.
It was one of only a handful of times in his life Logan ever felt the urge to cry. Instead, he kept moving, the whole time. And before her legs were even on the floor, Logan had already pinned Javers to the mat. Flat on his back, he looked up at Logan, wide-eyed. Complete disbelief. He would have done a lot more than that too, if he had time.
"That's enough, Mr. Reese." There were three pairs of hands pulling him off. He was too focused on pounding Javers head in to notice who had pulled him off. He swung his arms in random directions, trying to pull away, trying to crawl his way back to Javers.
"Zoey!" Lola's voice cut through him. His whole body froze, and then went limp. Her shrill cry was like being tossed into ice water, or having it injecting into his veins. The hands holding him down loosened their grip, apparently satisfied that he wasn't going to attack again, but still didn't let go.
And now that it was over, he couldn't look at her. He knew what she'd look like. A motionless body, limbs askew, head bent to an odd angle. He could imagine it just fine in his head. She would look dead. And Logan knew, with infinite certainty, that if he saw her like that, there was no going back. As it was, the only thing that kept him in place, made him stay on his side of the 'Zoey' line was Chase. But even the unspoken, unwritten, damnable 'best friends code' would mean nothing if he had to look at her like that.
Behind him, he could hear Chase calling Zoey's name and he tried to fold in on himself. After all, she didn't need two guys refusing to leave her side. So instead, Logan wrenched away from the hands that were still holding him down, with less force, and turned towards to locker rooms.
"Logan." Michael called to him, but through the crowd of people that had descended from the bleachers to gawk at Zoey and Javers, and maybe a few to gawk at Logan too – for acting so completely out of character – he could pretend that he hadn't heard Michael call his name and kept walking.
His arms were shaking with all the adrenaline he had pumping in his blood. He felt hot and itchy, and completely useless. He hadn't been fast enough to help Zoey. He hadn't been strong enough to really hurt Javers, just surprise him a bit. And he hadn't been 'Chase' enough to stay with her.
Instead, he crumpled to the tiled floor of the shower, his knuckles scrapping the grout in-between the slick porcelain of the stall dividers. He didn't bother to try and calm his quivering muscles. His arms twitched, his fingers seemed to ball into fight fists of their own accord. His legs were restless and his heart was still pounding deafeningly against his ribs.
And every time he closed his eyes, the only thing he could see was Zoey, suspended in the air, halfway between the blinding lights above, and the darkness below.
She'd closed her eyes.
"Stupid."
He grabbed his bag, shoved his street clothes in the half opened zipper and left. Still stinking, and covered in sweat. He didn't even care that he was a mess. There was something he had to do.
When he emerged from the locker room, most of the crowd had disbanded.
Michael and Quinn were waiting by the door of the gym, talking quietly. Logan sighed and swung the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
"Logan –"
"I'm not in the mood Michael." He didn't even care that he had to say. It didn't matter to him. The only thing he could picture was Zoey's face, cringing in pain. And the smile on Javer's face.
He would pay for what he did.
"She's gonna be okay." Quinn offered, quietly, twisting her fingers together at her sides.
"What do I care?" he pushed past them and out into the muggy California night. The parking lot was almost empty now, except for the small, boisterous crowd at the back of the lot, next to a bus. Logan fisted his hands and walked on.
"You helped her, Logan. We all saw it. If it wasn't for you, she would've gotten hurt a lot worse that just knocked out. Javers wouldn't have stopped." Logan ignored him. "What're you gonna do, man? Take on the whole team by yourself?" Michael tried to be logical. Unfortunately for Javers, and maybe Michael and Quinn, logic held no sway on his thoughts just then.
"Just back off Michael. Go call the nurse if you're so worried."
"But Logan, you don't need to do this." Quinn didn't sound like herself. Too quiet, too nice. Something was up, they knew, they suspected. But Logan was too focused on the square head near the back of the lot that was rolled back in laughter (that he was about crush) to care.
Logan tried to be sullen, and self-righteous. He tried to be selfish and misogynistic. He worked hard to be indifferent and cocky all the time. It was a skill he perfected over the years, one that came in handy when he met someone like Zoey.
Someone that was so startlingly honest that it was nearly impossible not to become a better person when he was around her. So he relied on these certain principals to keep her away. Like constant bickering, suedo-sexist comments, and always, always getting her angry. Because it was those seldom intervals of truce that his resolve began to waiver, and he was inclined to forget that his best friend was helplessly in love with her.
And Chase had been friends with her since her first day at PCA.
He was reminded of that often enough. Not as though that gave Chase some kind of carte blanche over her, like she was his or anything. It just meant that Logan would always come in second. Even when he was the only one who even considered trying to stop her from getting kicked out of PCA during prank week, or when he willingly submitted to the humiliation of being labeled a science nerd to help her pass chemistry, or when he invited her, her brother, and all her friends to his family's house for spring break.
It was something he got used to a long time ago. But that didn't mean he was just going to sit back and watch her get pummeled by a creep like Javers.
"Logan, he'll kill you."
"Shut up, Michael. No one asked you. This is between me and him." He nodded at Javers as they slowed and Logan let his bag slip from his shoulders and hit the asphalt with a thud.
"Well, lookie who it is." Javers taunted, in a sing-song voice. "I think the rich kid's upset because I schooled his little girlfriend." He turned around, still in his wrestling gear.
"It's just you and me Javers. No refs, no mats, no rules."
"And why would I want to fight you?" Javers gestured to the champion shirt slung around his neck. "I got nothing to prove."
Logan, unable to control his anger anymore, sprung forward. It was the shirt that set him off. That stupid, free, tacky championship shirt that meant nothing to Javers. And yet, he'd hurt her, hurt Zoey, of all people, just so he could use it as a sweat rag. Logan wrapped his fingers in the fabric of it and yanked Javers neck to the side, hard. "What gives you the right? You think you can just come to our school and treat a member of our team like that?"
Their faces were close enough to touch, and every nerve in Logan's body was hyper aware that he was standing in a ring of wrestlers, most of which were in a higher weight class than he was. "You're gonna regret that." His hot breath made Logan want to gag.
This is what he wanted. This is why he came out here, outnumbered, outmuscled, outdone. This is exactly what he'd expected. He let his hands fall from the shirt as Javers fist pulled back. Logan imagined he could hear the sinew slide over bone and muscle, like a rubber band pulled tight.
Kenetic Energy.
He laughed. He laughed and closed his eyes as Javer's fist made contact with his face.
It was insane, Logan knew that. It was crazy to submit, to just let Javers use his face as a punching bag. But he did it anyway. It made a certain kind of sense. If she was hurt, then let him be hurt too. And if it was defending her, no one would question it. No one would have to know that he was desperately in love with her, had been for years now. It was almost like punishment, for not saving her. For not just manning it up and telling her in the most shovanistic way he could that she was a girl and girls had no place wrestling boys. She would have gotten mad, maybe even thrown a little tantrum, but in the end everyone else would have backed him up. So really, it was his fault that she was hurt.
And Javers was the cosmic balancing anvil that was beating the humility and remorse into him. Screw metaphors. Logan was literally getting some sense beat into him.
Just before he blacked out from all the blood he'd swallowed, he caught a glimpse of Quinn's face out of his swollen eye.
She was crying.
Logan woke up not long after. He could feel the bumps from the rolling gurney as he was taken to the nurse's station. There was something warm in his hand, wrapped around his, laced with his fingers.
It was Quinn. Well, to be more exact, it was Quinn's hand. Holding his.
"What's going on?" Even to himself, he knew he sounded pathetically weak.
"Javers." Michael answered from the other side. Logan couldn't turn his neck because it was in a brace.
"How's my face?" He managed to attempt a smile. But all it did was make Quinn cry harder.
"How could you be so stupid?"
Logan didn't bother answering.
"How long?" She asked, quietly.
"Quinn!" Michael hissed her name and that was all Logan saw before he slipped back into unconsciousness.
The next time he woke up, he was in a bed, his legs and arms suspended with bandages, and his throat was dry. He still couldn't move his neck. But it seemed that his head slumped to the right just enough for him to see Zoey.
She was lying in another bed. Her hands were folded on her stomach, and she was still in her wresting uniform. It couldn't have been that long since the match, otherwise they would have given her a robe.
Chase was sitting facing him in the chair next to her bed. His head was in his hands. Logan was glad he couldn't see his face. Something told him that he didn't want to see that expression.
He pretended to sleep as more people filed in, one by one. Quinn was the last. She looked… shaken. He was sorry she had to see him get his face smashed in. But it really was her own fault for following him.
And eventually, Zoey woke up. Good as knew. A concussion, a little winded. But other than that, just fine. He listened to them recount his bravery to her and waved, dutifully, when he was gestured at. About twenty minutes later, she was free to leave. Everyone else left the room while she got her bag.
"Logan," she said his name and he turned, as much as he could to see her standing over him. "Why?"
He didn't answer her.
"Why did you do it? You knew Javers was too big." He always did love the slight southern twang she had when she was too tried to try and suppress it.
"I could ask you the same thing." He coughed, and his chest burned. He tried not to cringe, too much.
"I'll never figure you out." She smiled at him. It wasn't huge like she did with Chase. Or that kind of plotting, inside-joke smile that she did with Lola, or even the reserved but friendly kind of smile she used on Michael and Quinn when they did something weird.
It was… new. A new kind of smile Logan had never seen her use before.
Then she bent down, and kissed his forehead. Or, at least, she kissed the bandages on his forehead. But still, it's practically the same thing.
"Thank you."
Too stunned to even reply, he just kind of moved his head in a sort-of-nod like movement. But when she pulled away to leave, her fingers grazed over the bare skin of his knuckles and he really did cry. It felt like everything he'd been holding back for three years was suddenly too hot, too bright, too big to ignore. She was there, thanking him. Kissed his forehead, touched his hand and his carefully constructed rules about "How to act around Zoey" came crashing down around him.
It was a good thing his whole face was in bandages and swollen. That way, no one could see him crying or they'd just think it was sweat and blood.
She left after that. Let Chase walk her back to her room and he was reminded, again, of his proper place in her life.
He wasn't alone for long though. Quinn slipped in the door a little while after Zoey had gone. She stood by the door for a while, but eventually she pulled a chair up next to his bed, they way Chase had done to Zoey, and rested her head in her hands. And they sat like that for a long time, in silence. It was so long before she spoke, Logan drifted in and out of sleep a few times.
"I'm smart." Her voice startled him. It'd been quiet so long that he'd almost forgotten she was even there.
"What?" he croaked out.
"I'm smart. I know that. I'm pretty good at observing, as a scientist. Using empirical evidence to come to a reasonable conclusion, based on the facts." She clarified as she looked up from her hands at him. There were more tears on her cheeks. And Logan couldn't understand why. Maybe it was the concussion(s) he'd suffered tonight, or the jostling his brain took after having Zoey kiss him. But for whatever reason, he couldn't make heads or tails out a single thing Quinn had said all evening.
"I don't… I don't get it."
She looked down at him, tears on her cheeks and an almost exasperated expression. Like she was the one being patient with him. She looked right at him, right in his eyes. "How long have you been in love with Zoey?"
He sputtered for a few seconds, trying his best to look indignant. "What? That's crazy. You don't know what you're talking about."
"I've never seen you like that before Logan. It was, scary. The way you walked right up to Javers, and just closed your eyes. You didn't even try to fight back."
"I'd get suspended if I did." It was a good excuse. Anything to keep her from knowing. Anything to protect his secret.
"You're lying. You're lying right now!" She pointed at him, like there was a big sign on his forehead that lit up in purple neon letters when he lied.
"Am not!"
"You are. I can tell."
"How!?" Logan tried to pull back, away from her. She was too smart. She wouldn't just say something like that if she didn't have proof. That's what Quinn was all about, proof.
"When you lie, your pulse speeds up, and you move your eyes up and to the right."
"How the hell can you tell how fast my pulse is?" He was getting desperate.
"I can count the number of pumps per minute there are in your carotid artery. It's in your neck." Trapped, caught in the bindings of the bandages he couldn't move his hand or hid his neck.
"So what if I'm lying, that doesn't mean I'm… you know." He couldn't say it, couldn't admit it out loud.
"Michael knows too. He saw the same thing I did."
"What, my pulse?"
"No, how you really feel about her." She still looked sad, like it was his fault. He didn't mean to, he never wanted to be head over heels in love with someone that thought he was lower than scum. In fact, it was Zoey's fault. From the first day he met her. At the basketball courts.
She stood up to him. She stood her ground, she didn't care that he was rich, or influential. That's the kind of person Zoey was. After that, he did everything he could to get her attention. Even joining that stupid play, if it meant getting to kiss her. But he couldn't resist taunting her. It was too much fun. It was all her fault. Her fault that she was cute when she was mad, her fault that he always made her mad. Her fault that she was perfect.
"Leave me alone." All the fight was gone. He didn't even care anymore that Quinn and Michael knew. What did it matter anyway? Zoey and Chase were inseparable. And Logan had managed to work himself into a very specific niche in her life. The annoying, rich friend that she barely tolerated.
He stayed up all night practicing disc golf so that he could help her win the championship. He volunteered to help her win the robot battle the only way he could, with money. He was always there to come to her rescue when no one else would or could. Even when it meant sacrificing a trip on a private jet, and looking like an idiot in front of the whole school when he let her outsmart him into taking his hands off the van.
And still, it was always someone else. Logan resigned himself then to being the mayor of rich-jerk-semi-friend-ville. Getting slapped was better than not getting noticed at all.
"Why can't you just admit it?" Michael must have joined at some point. But Logan was too distracted to notice much of anything.
"It's so obvious."
"Fine, I admit it. You happy now? I love her. I'm in love with Zoey. I have been since the first day I met her. So there!" dejected, and broken he let himself fall back against the pillows and close his eyes. He was too tired to pretend anymore.
"Wow."
Logan shot up, and nearly screamed in protest as the bruised skin tore along his leg. The asphalt burn on his face rubbed painfully against the scratchy bandages, and his dislocated shoulder tugged in the socket.
Chase was standing at the door to the infirmary.
"Chase –"
He held up his hand, and the sentence died in Logan's throat.
"I always kind of figured that you liked her. But I didn't realize… This whole time?"
"She doesn't know, does she?" Logan hoped, dared to pray that she was still in her room, and not standing right behind Chase.
"No. She can never tell when someone is in love with her."
"Lola!? That's it, get out. All of you. Get out!"
"Logan you can't just push us all away because we know. We're worried about you." Quinn still sat next to him, unfazed by the screaming.
"What you did tonight was stupid." Michael was to his left, somewhere.
"And dangerous." Lola chimed in too.
"What were you thinking?" Chase took a step forward.
"That… that I deserved it. I couldn't help her. I couldn't stop Javers. I couldn't even look at her when she was knocked out. I don't know what I would've done. I couldn't do anything! Not even, you know, take care of her. I'm completely useless!" This was beginning to feel like an intervention. And he was being held there against his will.
"I'm not over her." Chase casually cross his arms and for the first time in all the years that Logan had known him that Chase managed to look almost… intimidating.
"Way to state the obvious, Chase." From where Logan was, it was hard to tell if Lola was on his side or not. But, considering the crowd, it was most likely that no one was on his side. Except maybe Quinn.
"It's not a contest." It seemed odd that Michael was going to be the 'voice of reason' in this situation.
"Whatever. It doesn't matter. Zoey's Zoey, you know. Besides, she hates me."
"That's just because you're always pushing her away." Quinn could read him better than anyone else. It was an unsettling feeling, to know that despite everything he'd done to her, and how hard he tried to be a jerk, somehow, she still managed to see right through him. He wondered if he hadn't met Zoey, maybe things would be different.
"Yeah. And this is exactly why. I know you're not over her Chase! That's why I never, I wouldn't ever do that to you. So I kept it to myself. Yeah, I pushed Zoey away, because letting her get too close wasn't an option. It never was." He tried to sit up, and Quinn put her hand on his shoulder, keeping him against the mattress. He groaned from the pain but kept speaking. He knew if he didn't get it out now, he'd never say it. And he might lose Chase as a friend. "I made up my mind about that her first year here. During your play, Chase. I wanted Zoey to like me. I wanted her to see more to me than just… you know, money. And she did. But, but when she was on stage with me, and we were about to kiss, I saw her hesitate. I saw it in her eyes. She was thinking about you. I knew then she'd never love me. So, I let her think I was the jerk everyone else always just assumed I was. It was easier than having to watch her choose you. It was easier to let her hate me. At least that way I could surprise her every now and then when I did something nice. Like keeping her from getting expelled."
Chase didn't say anything, and from the looks of it, no one else wanted to speak either. They all knew he was right, they all knew Zoey and Chase were going to end up together, eventually.
Sighing, Logan settled back against his pillows and shut his eyes. He was exhausted. "I'm not your competition Chase, I just want to make sure she's safe."
"Fine." He didn't sound happy about it, but at least he wasn't yelling anymore.
"Come on, guys." He heard Quinn say after a minute. "He needs to rest."
There was shuffling feet, and the quiet click of the infirmary door close and Logan exhaled sharply.
"Not everyone thinks you're a jerk."
Logan cracked one eye open enough to see Quinn's silhouette standing in the red glow of the emergency exit light. He half smiled and shut his eyes again.
"Thanks."
There was a pause, but he was too tired to look up to see if she'd gone.
Soft foot falls drew closer and he felt her hand touch his. She was warm, which was nice because it was so cold in the infirmary. He didn't get that kind of electric feeling, like when Zoey's hand grazed his. But still, it was nice.
"I think, maybe, I've always sort of known you liked her." He kept his eyes shut. If she was going to say what he suspected she was, he didn't want to have to look at her while she did it. "That's why, Mark and I… even though we don't really… it's just that, he doesn't mind me being around him. He lets me, you know, be me. I'm not as brave as you." She whispered, and Logan held his breath. "I didn't want to be alone, even when I did realize I… I liked you."
She let go of his hand, but he was so tired, he couldn't stop her. He heard her leave just before he drifted off to sleep.
That night, he dreamt of Quinn.