A/N: This is my first fic, and is unbeta'd; all mistakes are mine. This fic is kinda sad, but in a bittersweet way.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters from Veronica Mars belong to Rob Thomas, not me.
I gaze into your eyes, as I have so many times in the past. But this time, no life shines through them. They are glazed over, distant. A lump forms in my throat. I turn away.
I look instead at your body. It is stiff. Despite what they say about the dead looking like they're asleep, I can tell you are gone forever. A single tear runs down my cheek.
I wish you could move again. I desperately want you to sit up, smirk, laugh, run your hand through your hair, something. But you don't.
Wallace walks up and puts his arms around me. He is still my best friend after all of these years. I bury my face in his shoulder, trying not to cry. He doesn't feel right, though. I'd gotten used to you being there for me. You were so tall and strong, and you always made me feel safe. I miss you so much.
Wallace still manages to make me feel better all the same. He just holds me, not saying anything. There isn't anything to say. I've already heard enough people at this funeral tell me how sorry they are for my loss. Some of them really meant it. Mac did, I know, and Dick is taking it hard as well. I can tell he's been drinking a lot, something he hasn't done in a long time. Mac understands, even though she doesn't like it. You were like a brother to him.
Others, I don't even think they knew you. I can't imagine you really had this many friends. But you were famous. Once you became an actor, well, some would say you were more popular than Aaron. The amount of people here confirms it.
I can't imagine this is what you would want. You always hated funerals, after your mother died. I don't even know if you attended Aaron's. You never told me this, but I know you only went to my dad's funeral because of me. You probably would've gone to my mom's, too, but there never was one. She just disappeared without a trace.
Trina was the one who arranged this. I know you two weren't always close, but I can tell she misses you too.
Jackie calls Wallace's name, and he looks at me, asking me silently if I'll be okay. I nod. Wallace walks away towards his wife.
A woman walks up to me. I don't recognize her.
"I know you probably don't recognize me, but I'm Linda. I went to school with you at Hearst. I was in some classes with Logan, and he seemed like a really great guy. We were friends of a sort. After we graduated, I watched all of his movies as they came out, and I followed all of the news about you guys. I was really sorry to hear that he had passed away."
I nod. "Yes, he will be missed," I say, attempting to keep my voice steady. After she leaves, I have the sudden urge to laugh. She seemed to genuinely mean every word she said, yet I doubt you would know who this woman is, either. I wonder, then, how many people you showed your real self to. Me, Lilly, Duncan, Dick...Mac, too, I realize. Not a very long list. You tried so hard to hide it from the rest of the world. But those of us you let in, we saw it all. I had a special place on that list. I suppose that was partly because I was your wife, but I think part of it was also the fact that we'd been through so much together, and I understood what you'd been through alone. I knew you so well, I saw things no one else did.
Your eyes were what gave it away. Whenever I looked into them, those dark brown soulful abysses, I could see whatever you were feeling. When I met you, your eyes already showed you were wise beyond your years, having been through a lot. Even so, your eyes always shone when you were happy, which you usually were spending time with me, Duncan and Lilly. Then Lilly died, and the happiness was replaced with a deep anger and sadness. Even when you acted like you didn't care, like you were fine, I could see in your eyes you weren't. Maybe that's why you went after me: I could see the truth.
Then we made up and started dating. During the complicated years that followed, I saw a lot of different things in your eyes. In hindsight, though, I know that your love for me was always there. When I got mad at you, accused you of something, broke your heart, hurt joined it. When someone hurt me, anger joined it. But no matter what, your love for me was present. I just couldn't see it until...well, until the day you beat up Gory Sorokin.
Poor Piz. I know you never really liked him, but he was a good guy, and he was heartbroken when I ended things with him. Everything turned out all right for him, though, I think. He and Parker got married, and last I heard they were living in Ohio.
Duncan comes over, bringing me back to the present. He gives me a little smile.
"Hi, Veronica," he says.
"Hi, Duncan," I reply. "How have you been?"
Duncan looks down at his hands, before saying, "Alright...for the most part. It's just hard, knowing that he's gone, and now I can't apologize for the way I acted when I came back to the States. I mean, I had Lilly, and I had already broken up with you years ago. I shouldn't have been upset that you and Logan were getting married."
I can tell Duncan's really taking all of this rough, just like he took our marriage. He has good reason to feel bad; he said some pretty nasty things to you when he first came back. Still, you were his best friend.
"Logan understood why you...acted that way. Besides, I thought we'd all gotten past that when you met Kaitlyn," I told him.
"I know, we did, but I never really apologized to him. Now I can't." Duncan looks back at me. "Anyways, Veronica, I'm really sorry for your loss, and I hope I'll see you soon."
I watch him walk away, wanting to say more but not able to think of what. Instead, I start to look around for Peter and Madeline.
I still remember the look in your eyes when I told you I was pregnant. It was fear, fear that you'd turn out like Aaron. You didn't, though. You were never anything like him. You loved Peter, and then Madeline, when she came later. You were a great father to them. You were even great when it came to naming them. When you told me you wanted to name him Peter Charlie, I just said, "Peter Charlie Echolls," and nodded. I'd heard enough about your grandfather, Peter, the "only decent member of your family," that I didn't need to ask. So when I said I wanted to name her Madeline Lilly, you just said, "Madeline Lilly Echolls," and then nodded. Part of me thought you were making fun of me, but I don't think you were. You'd already heard enough about my grandmother, Madeline, that you understood.
I find Madeline and Peter talking with Lilly. It had been interesting to watch Lilly and Madeline become friends, like history repeating itself. You always told me watching them reminded you of me and Lilly. And then when Peter fell for Lilly, I started to worry, remembering your tumultuous relationship with Lilly. But when Madeline and Lilly stayed friends, and Peter and Lilly got married, well, I had to admit that everything turned out better this time. No broken families and kids forced to grow up too fast, like we were.
I feel another lump forming in my throat because of all the memories, so I force myself to smile and say, "Hello."
"Hi, mom," Madeline replies, when I sit down next to her, she buries her face in my shoulder and cries. It reminds me so much of what I did to Wallace earlier, and to what I did to you when my dad died, I feel like crying myself. Instead, I hold her tight. Lilly puts her arm around Madeline. Peter moves to my other side, and he hugs me too. He doesn't cry, but that's just because he's your son. You never cried in public, either.
Right then, it feels wonderful to be with family. You never did have a great family growing up, but you've left behind a really close one.
Madeline pulls away and wipes her tears on her sleeve. Peter pulls away as well. When Madeline looks back, she appears totally fine and tough and able to take on the world. Just like me, I realize. She looks okay but she isn't, not on the inside. Not yet, that is. Don't worry about her; she'll be fine, I tell myself. So will Peter.
"Where are Lisa and Ryan?" I ask. I love my grandkids and know you did too. You always were a great grandfather.
"They're over with Caroline and Michael," Lilly tells me. I nod; they are really close to Mac and Dick's grandkids.
I hear footsteps approaching, and I look up to see John, Wallace's step-son, and Samantha, Wallace and Jackie's daughter. Sam has her young daughter Sylvia with her.
When Sylvia sees me, she runs over and cries, "Aunt Veronica!" I smile at her and give her a hug.
"Hi, Veronica," Sam says. "I know you've probably heard this a million times, but I was really sad when I heard the news. Logan will be missed."
"Yeah. He was a good guy," John adds.
You have no idea just how much I'll miss him, I want to tell them. But that isn't true. They probably have some idea, just not the complete picture.
"Thanks for coming," I tell them. Sam smiles at me, then starts talking to Madeline and Lilly. John gives me a little smile too before entering the conversation as well. Peter has wandered off, probably to talk to Kyle, Mac and Dick's son. I saw him here earlier with his wife and the twins.
Sitting there, I am all alone again. I miss you so much. You were always there. After Gory, when we got back together, you changed. I did too. You didn't change completely, but you started to drink less, and you seemed happier. In fact, that's when the shine returned to your eyes. When you proposed, you told me I was your happiness. I didn't tell you this, but you were mine. So now what am I supposed to do? You're gone, for good. Another tear finds its way down my cheek.
Someone says, "Hello, Veronica," startling me. I quickly wipe the tear away.
"Hello, Trina."
"Was the service okay? How were the speeches?"
"The service was great, Trina, and the speeches were lovely." I can see just how much she misses you. She's sad enough without me telling her that this is probably not what you would have wanted.
"Good." She nods before leaving to talk to more people.
I actually don't know what you would have wanted. But I don't think you wished for people who didn't even know you to make long, boring speeches. I remember Duncan telling me, years ago, how you'd said to him that your mom's funeral wasn't for her, it was for Aaron. I feel like this whole thing isn't for you, it's for Trina, and I think you do deserve something. So here's a speech just for you:
You were the wittiest person I'd ever met. You were strong, and brave to the point of recklessness. You were fiercely loyal to those you cared about. You were loving, and very romantic. You were someone who believed that you could battle your way through life with a sharp tongue and two fists.
It's just too bad that attitude didn't work against cancer, I think to myself.
I go back over to you and look at you. You look so unnaturally frozen. You were always moving when you were alive. You were always pacing, or running your hand through your hair, or something. It's unnerving to see you so still. Your eyes are still out of focus; unseeing. They always showed so much emotion. Now they convey nothing. I stare at you until I can't, and then I find a secluded corner and cry my eyes out until no more tears come, after which I just stare into space.
Your life became so full of happiness when we married. I could tell. You were my closest friend in a lot of ways, and then you were my husband. We had kids, and grandkids. We grew older, and watched our friends grow older. In a lot of ways, you lived a full life with a happy ending. Still, the cancer came from out of the blue. One moment, you seemed fine, the next, you were sick and dying. It was hard, knowing the end was coming and being able to do nothing to stop it.
Oh, Logan, it was so damn hard. You knew me. I would put myself in danger at the drop of a hat to save someone I loved, and yet I had to watch, helpless, as you were taken from me. It killed me, the inaction did. I'm so sorry for the fights we got into. I was angry, and I took it out on you. And a lot of other people, I've realized in hindsight. I'm sorry.
Mac is the one who finds me there. She acts like Wallace did, just holding me. It's really nice of her to try to help me even when she is hurting.
"You know you were the person he cared about most, right?" she asks me.
I just nod, although part of me wants to say that you cared about her too, that you considered her a close friend. I don't, though. I think she already knows.
"Good," she says. "Now come on, they're about to go to the cemetery."
I let her lead me outside. There, she leaves to go find Dick. I find my car and then instinctively look around for you, before I remember that you're not here anymore. I drive to the cemetery alone.
There, I take one last good look at you before you're gone forever. And it's then, in the afternoon sunlight, that you finally seem peaceful. I still know you're dead, but I begin to believe that you're simply reunited with your mother and Lilly.
The minister gives his speech, the casket is lowered, and I suddenly think back to the night you died.
You weren't responding to treatments, and your condition was deteriorating. I came to see you that night, along with Madeline, Peter, Lilly, Lisa and Ryan. Lisa and Ryan didn't stay long before Lilly brought them home. Peter and Madeline stayed longer, but finally I was the only one left. I stayed with you for hours, talking to you about all sorts of things. Your eyes that night told me that you were ready. It was me who wasn't prepared. I stayed with you until you died, passing away quietly and peacefully, so unlike the way you'd lived.
Madeline and Peter come over to me, and we each put a handful of dirt in your grave.
Then we stand together, a little ways away. That's when I realize how completely wrong I am. You might be dead, but you're not gone. You're still here in all of the ways Madeline and Peter take after you. You're still here in all of our memories. Everyone who knew you still has a little piece of you. And you're still here the way Lilly is; you're still watching over me, I can tell.
I smile, the first real smile since your death. This way of you living on past your demise suits you far more than simply dying quietly.
My smile grows as I imagine your eyes sparkling, just like they always did when you smiled, as I think all of this.
Yes, you might be dead, but you're not gone. Not by a long shot.
Okay, so I hope you liked it. Please review!