Disclaimer: If I owned Veronica Mars, I wouldn't have had her and Logan break up last episode, so obviously I own nothing.
Author's note: I promise the beginning will be explained better in later chapters, so don't let it bother you if you have no clue what's going on. Oh, and I have no idea where I'm going with this yet, so suggestions are always appreciated for this or any other story I write. This takes place towards the end of season one.
"Logan? Logan! Logan!" Veronica's cries were panicked as she ran through the dark house searching for him. No one answered.
She continued to search for Logan through the darkened rooms of the Echolls' mansion. She could smell smoke, see the black thickness that would smother them both if they didn't escape it soon. She opened Logan's bedroom door, but instead of finding him as she'd hoped, she came face to face with Aaron Echolls. She turned to run, but he grabbed her before she could even move. His hand came up to cover her mouth and he pulled her tightly to him.
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Logan was sprawled face down on the bed in the pool house when the scent of smoke penetrated his clouded brain. The intense pain from his bruised and bloodied back served to dull his senses to the acrid odor at first and Logan debated the value of investigating the scent. As the smell grew stronger, he decided it was worth the pain of getting up to find its source. When he saw that his house was on fire, he was sure he was hallucinating.
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Veronica figured that Aaron must have knocked her out because the next thing she knew, she woke up on the floor of Logan's room. The side of her head was throbbing and the room was listing and spinning around her. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out, but there was no sign of Aaron and the smoke was so thick now that she could barely breathe. She got up and tried the door. Locked. Aaron had locked her in his son's room, leaving her to die.
She quickly made it to the window and thrust it open. Fresh air flooded her choked lungs and her mind cleared. She looked down and saw that she was two stories above a cement patio. Jumping would be impossible. She tried to yell, but her throat was so dry, her voice would not come. She walked back to the door and tried the handle again. She frantically inspected the lock and hinges, hoping for a way out. The hinges were on the outside of the door and before she could bother with the lock, her lungs filled with smoke again. She tried to make it to the window again for more air, but flames had spread beneath it, urged on by the clear, crisp breeze. The curtains caught and became twin columns of fire. Flames jumped onto the walls and finally, across the the ceiling. Surrounded by blinding, blistering heat, Veronica's world turned black.
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Logan saw his father enter the pool house.
"Son, the house is on fire. We have to go, now!"
Logan nodded, confused. He grabbed his cell phone and followed him. When they had gotten outside he glanced at his cell phone and saw the missed call. Veronica. Logan remembered that she had called him earlier, after his run-in with his Aaron, and said she'd be by to get him. Worry consumed his pain and he dialed her number. No answer. He sprinted away from his father, ignoring the tear of his flesh and the blood running down his back. He ran around to the front of the house to find her deserted Le Barron in the drive way.
"Veronica?" He called out, praying that she was still outside somewhere, that she was safe.
Aaron came up behind Logan and put his hand on Logan's shoulder. Logan swung around quickly to Aaron's surprise.
"Where is she?" Logan yelled into his father's face.
"What? Who, son?" Aaron asked, his tone a blend of his best imitation of fatherly concern and false innocence.
Logan wasn't fooled. Beating him was one thing, but if Aaron had known Veronica was in the house and hadn't gotten her out on purpose, he had crossed a major line. "You know who, damn it!" And for the first time in his life, he struck his father. Logan threw a hard right hook straight into Aaron's charmingly broken nose. "Where is she!"
Aaron straightened himself and laughed, unfazed by the blood trickling from his mouth and nose. "She's in your room, son. Why don't you go in to die with her?"
Logan threw another punch but didn't wait around to see where it landed. He himself ran into the house before he could consider any other option. Veronica's messenger bag was sitting near the door, obviously thrown down in a hurry. He yelled out her name, going from room to room. No one responded. The fire was spreading rapidly through the downstairs. Logan knew the whole house had caught and there would be nothing anyone could do to save it. The house and everything inside would burn to the ground. Logan just prayed that that everything wouldn't include Veronica.
The smoke was thick and the heat was unbearable. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to go back outside. But he couldn't, wouldn't until he knew Veronica was all right. He took the stairs two at a time to his bedroom. He wrenched open the door, the metal handle searing into his flesh. The pain was forgotten when he saw how bad the fire was. His heart dropped to his knees and his hope almost completely disappeared. He couldn't see or breathe for the thick, black smoke. He took another step into the burning room and stumbled over something soft. It was body on the floor.
As soon as he felt it there was no doubt in his mind that it was Veronica. He regained his footing, covered his nose and mouth with his arm, and picked up the limp figure. The stairwell was starting to burn, but Logan raced down the stairs, barely taking note of the burns on his legs. His face was a mask of rage and hatred as he thought of the painful ways he would kill his father if the petite girl in his arms was dead. He tried not to think of that possibility as he got himself and her limp form out of the house.
Logan knew he was no sweetheart. He was an uncaring jackass . Lilly was dead, his mother was dead, he wished his father was dead. The tiny blond girl in his arms was all he had left to keep him in check. Without her in the picture, he had no reason not to just shoot his famous father and follow his mother off the Coronado Bridge. Obviously, Logan hadn't been enough of a reason for Lynn to stay. But Veronica was enough for him… or she had been.
He finally made it out and gulped in fresh air, choking out the remnants of the smoke. He put distance between himself and the burning mansion and laid Veronica's broken body down carefully on the well-manicured lawn. He heard sirens approaching and he knelt beside her to wait. His expression was so fierce, it might have been carved from granite.