DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN VERONICA MARS
It Was Always Obvious
He knelt by the minimalistic, but beautiful headstone and read the engraved message:
"Intelligence, Wit and Beauty. Rest in peace Veronica Mars and may you find the peace you deserve with your best friend"
He knew she would scoff at the stale paragraph, well, maybe not the best friend part. When he was told they could put something in the casket to be buried with her, he was perplexed. What do you place in the grave of the love of your life?
It was obvious. He leaned down into the casket and placed the bear over her chest and whispered the words he would never get to hear from her mouth,
I love you
He flicked his blonde surfer locks away from his eyes and reached into his pocket to retrieve his last gift to Veronica simultaneously. He gently placed the unopened can of ginger ale in her open palm, and thought of the times they had shared- before she was the public enemy number one of Neptune High, when they would sit on the beach and drink ginger ale, she would always scold him for his drinking, so those nights he would stay sober with her and they would talk about their families and their good for nothing mothers. Those were the nights where he would be serious. He would be himself with the petite blonde whose serene innocence he knew could not be more of a lie. She had imperfections like everyone else.
He whispered then what he had whispered to her so many times throughout their adolescence,
Bottoms up, Ronnie
He took great care in placing his gift to her in her casket. It was a copy of the spirit boxes she used to anonymously make him before his big games. He knew she would laugh at the image of him in a kitchen determinedly trying to bake the snickerdoodles that he loved. He wished she was there to see him reading the recipe upside down and burning eight batches before making some edible ones. At least he was offering her some entertainment.
His last words to his best friend were the ones he was sure he was the only person to have ever said to her,
You're a marshmallow Superfly
He knew she would throw a fit if she knew he was here, but she obviously knows he is here, Veronica Mars knows everything after all, and he isn't being zapped by lightning or being swallowed by the earth, so he takes it as a sign to continue. He removes a gold star from his pocket, a gold star that was never rightfully his, and placed it by her head. He only lingered long enough to say the only truthful words he had probably ever said to her,
Veronica Mars is smarter than me
He sat on a veranda looking out at the sunset. He had gotten the call from a disposable cell phone a few days ago. He didn't know who it was; they hung up immediately after they delivered the message that she was dead. He knew how it had happened though; it was all over the news "Veronica Mars, best friend to Lilly Kane and key witness to the Aaron Echolls murder trial is murdered by her High School Janitor. Heartbroken friends, family and teachers attend the funeral where she is to be buried next to childhood friend Lilly Kane"
He knew that at this moment all of the people in Neptune would be paying their last respects to the girl they tormented, loved, depended on. The girl that solved their murders when the sheriff was too incompetent to do so, the girl that caught their cheating spouses instead of attending to her own love life, the girl that died in such an anticlimactic ending to a life that was, for lack of a better word, explosive.
He had sub-consciously known that this was probably the way Veronica Mars would end. The world was just too unfair to allow her the tranquil ending she deserved. He did not, however, figure her death to be so smooth; he thought she would go with a bang that would make her remembered. Maybe a miraculous stunt of heroics or at the climax of a dangerous case that she had thrown herself into. Not like this. It was like she had slipped out of the world so suddenly that the world hadn't yet caught up to what had happened.
He sat and fingered the gift that he would have been placing in her casket at this moment if he hadn't fucked up his life so badly.
He closed his eyes, returned a fortune cookie to his pocket, and whispered its altered message to the wind,
Love stories must always have endings
He knew he had to grow up now. He no longer had her. He no longer had her 'pixie spy magic' to get him a get out of jail free card; he'd have to play the game like everyone else, it would be all: Go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200, from now on.
He knelt down and enclosed a pink pen between the cold fingers of her free hand and kissed he wrist. His last words to her were something that would have made her laugh, and whisper back, 'Well, it is a day that ends in a y'
Don't make too many enemies up there V
The crowd went silent as the last man walked up to the open grave.
His eyes were red.
The man who hadn't cried when his wife left him. Who didn't cry at the funeral of his daughter's best friend. Or when he found that his wife had been having an affair with one of his friends. This man was openly weeping over his daughter's grave. A number of people ran to his side but he waved them all away. He gently placed a small plastic horse by his daughters head, kissed her forehead and made a horn gesture with his hands,
If you mess with the bull…
Every person who attended the service knew something, fact or fiction, about the girl that had just been laid to rest. However, there were a number of people closest to her that knew no one knew all there was to learn about Veronica Mars, V, Ronnie, Ronica, Slut, Hero, whatever they called her, and no one ever would.
She always thought she was bulletproof, or if she didn't, she put herself in enough danger for the purpose of helping others that you could make an educated guess that she did. The bullet that killed her proves that hypothesis wrong, and everyone at that funeral, people with varying levels of toleration towards the pesky blonde, all wish that it hadn't.