*Sequel to Logan had nothing*

Let's get dark

As dark as we can get…

Logan rolled over in bed, expecting—well, more like hoping—to feel Veronica lying next to him. Without even opening his eyes, though, he could tell that she'd left again like a thief in the night. Veronica had recently gotten her first "normal" job, working at a local Neptune coffee shop. She liked it and Logan was happy for her but it meant she left him while it was still dark out most days. He rolled over onto Veronica's side of the bed and sighed. Time for school.

For someone who had never shown much academic prowess before, Logan was doing surprisingly well in his sophomore year at Hearst. Veronica had moved in with him and they split the rent—which let Logan only work one job instead of two. She was constantly improving his life. No one had ever told Logan he was smart before so he always believed he was, at best, average but he was acing most of his classes. Logan was majoring in biology for no good reason other than it was interesting (and he was good at it); Veronica was studying criminal justice for much more obvious reasons. She had asked her boyfriend if it was ok if she wrote a paper on the Aaron Echolls trial and how could he say no? Logan was trying so hard to act like his father meant nothing to him anymore—he was even thinking of changing his last name to Lester, his mom's maiden name—that he couldn't risk seeming offended at the idea of Veronica writing about his family. Logan, for all intents and purposes, had moved on and he wanted everyone to see it.

Aaron, on the other hand, had not moved on—not even superficially. Even though Lynn's body had never been found and neither had the murder weapon, Aaron had been convicted of murder. His interview pleading with the local paper that he was innocent was dismissed by all except a few crazies. Aaron currently was housed at Los Angeles County State Prison, which Logan had never visited. It had now been years since Logan had seen his father, but not years since they had spoken. Aaron called Logan from prison whenever he could, to remind Logan of how important he was to Aaron and how much Logan's betrayal hurt him. To tell Logan that, even though the Fitzpatricks were imprisoned elsewhere, they had men inside and it was only a matter of time before one of them shanked Aaron in the neck. Usually Logan refused to accept his father's calls but, every once in a while, the masochistic side of his personality took over and he couldn't help but see if his father for once had something else to say. Like, I'm sorry. Don't hate me. You're a much better man than I'll ever be. But obviously that never happened. Aaron was a broken record. He would raise his voice and demand that Logan drive up to LA to visit and maybe someday Logan would. When hell froze over and pigs flew and all that.

Logan sighed and forced himself into the shower. Veronica had probably been at work for five hours now that it was ten o'clock and Logan was only just getting ready for his 10:30 class. Logan couldn't have class or work too early—otherwise, he risked showing up drunk from the night before. After school, he would scoop ice cream like a pro and then go home to an exhausted Veronica, a late dinner, hopefully a little sex and booze and then some passing out as the cycle continued. Sometimes Logan felt slightly old. He wanted to have fun but didn't know how. True to form, Veronica didn't judge him for his drinking (which could be pretty damn excessive) but she probably worried about him. Everybody seemed to think that Logan should be blissfully happy now but that wasn't really his nature. Without pain, Logan didn't know who he was. And even without pain, he still had memories. His slate had hardly been wiped clean. He was like a kicked rescue dog sometimes or Black Beauty once that horse finally got a decent owner. But he felt even more pathetic. You don't just fucking forget, any dime store psychologist will tell you that. He won't let you.

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It was almost summertime. Veronica and Logan had been living well together for many months. Duncan was coming home for the whole summer and Lilly said she might even swing by. Lilly was almost twenty-one and obviously wouldn't be living with her parents ever again. Duncan and Logan were still nineteen and Veronica was twenty. People were finally starting to treat them all like adults. When Veronica was keeping busy, she could be happy and block out her other thoughts—thoughts of her mom, thoughts of Logan's, thoughts of something that had happened long ago but was anything but a distant memory. Her dad still called her honey and phoned her every night to make sure she was doing ok. Nobody called Logan every night. Tears used to flow easier for Veronica, but now she held them back. She missed Lilly but she had Logan and everything would be alright.

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It was another beautifully sunny day in Neptune, California. Veronica was working and Logan was surfing—or so she thought. In fact, he was boozing it up in their cozy one-bedroom—slowly but surely feeling like he was losing his mind. He liked the feeling.

"But who hasn't been beaten down by life? If you're happy it's because you don't know any better and someday you will…" It was the perfect day for a breakdown.

"Logan?" Veronica asked hesitantly as she put down her purse and her keys. "Who are you talking to?"

Logan looked up from his bottle and into Veronica's eyes. She saw that his were glassy and he was having trouble focusing. Just the way he liked it. "You, I guess, Ronnie."

"You mean you're talking to yourself. Like you're Henry V or something?"

"I guess…"

"Logan, it's the middle of the day. It's Saturday. I just got off work. I wanted us to have fun."

"So, let's!" Logan said, leaping from his spot on the couch. He spilled whiskey down his pants.

"Logan," Veronica started sweetly. "I hate to see you this way."

"I've always been this way and you always knew it. I had my first drink when I was seven years old."

Veronica cringed. What parent would let their kid…? Oh, right. "Be that as it may, you didn't used to be this bad. We can talk when you're sober. Am I going to have to call you in sick to work?"

"Are you asking me if I'm turning into my mother?"

"No, Logan I—"

"'Cause we both know she's the better of the two choices, anyway. Wouldn't you rather have a self-loathing drunk than a self-righteous bastard? Someone who hits you and beats you down? That's what he turns people into, you see. He makes us hate ourselves instead of him. We drink to forget and to, to get away. It's genius, honestly. Say what you will about Aaron Echolls, but the man has talent."

Logan was never able to speak like this when sober and he told himself he had never felt more clarity. "I mean, when I was a kid and peeked at a Christmas present once, he almost choked me to death. My mom actually had to do something for once." Looking at Veronica's increasingly upset expression, Logan nodded forcefully. "You didn't know that, did you? 'Course not, 'cause I never told you. You just know vague stuff, Ronnie. You don't know the truth. And you want to know the truth? If you had opened a present early, your dad would have just laughed and patted you on the head. Would that stop you from doing it again? No, of course not. I never did it again… Like I said, Aaron's a smart guy. He keeps calling and calling, wanting to break me down when he already broke me down when I was four. And I'll give in, 'cause I always give in. 'Cause he's my dad. Your dad is not my dad…"

When Logan finally took a break from ranting, Veronica grabbed him into a crushing hug. "It's not about biology, Logan. It's about who loves you."

"Ah, but you'll never get it," Logan muttered down into Veronica's hair. "He does love me, in a sick and twisted way. And he always will. And as long as he's alive—and I'm alive—he'll never let me forget it."