Note: Sorry for the delay getting this posted but I had major computer issues and had to reformat my hard drive. Thankfully this was one of the few things I had backed up on disk. The next chapter may take a little longer than hoped due to this problem but hopefully not too long.

rhapsodysenigma - The title for the last chapter came from the Martika song "Toy Soldiers" which is where the Eminem song came from. I normally don't like to use song titles but that song would not get out of my head when I wrote that chapter and it just seemed to fit. Same with thing happened with this chapter. Can anyone guess where this title came from:)

Chapter 10: A Soft Place To Fall

At eight o'clock in the evening Logan found himself curled up with a bottle of tequila on the beach under the Coronado Bridge. This time he was determined not to be found by Veronica, the press or anyone else, so the railing wasn't an option. He wasn't sure what it was that kept drawing him back to the bridge when his life was falling apart. Did he feel comfort being near his mother's final resting spot or was it a sort of penance for sins committed and those yet to be perpetrated? It was a comforting embrace and a kick to the head simultaneously.

After he'd attacked Aaron, the guards had taken him to a separate room and would not let him leave until he had calmed down. They had left him alone for awhile during which he paced, kicked the table and chairs, and punched the wall. He knew they were watching him from another room and he imagined he looked like a wild animal waiting to attack. On one of Aaron's movie shoots in Indonesia, when he was a child, his mother had taken him to an animal park. In one part of the park they had various baby animals shackled so the tourists could take pictures with them. His mother would only let him take a picture with the baby tiger because it was sedated and non-threatening, but he really wanted one with the baby jaguar. It had been striding around, growling as loud as he could, letting his displeasure at being on display be known. He couldn't help but to recall the kinship he felt with the jaguar back then; it was the same feeling he had pacing about the room.

After he calmed down and was simply walking back and forth, running his hands through his hair, Cliff joined him in the room. Cliff convinced him to let the infirmary bandage his bleeding knuckles saying that they could head home afterward. As they were getting ready to leave the Warden warned them that the press had been tipped off and were amassed outside. Logan let out a string of curses but calmed himself down enough to put on the stone face he'd been taught to show the press. He was not going to give them the pleasure of capturing another meltdown like they had on the day of his mother's funeral.

Leaving the prison, he felt so disconnected from his surroundings he barely even noticed what was happening. He felt like everything was coming apart and each step was sinking him deeper in quicksand that wanted to pull him under. Cliff repeatedly told the press there would be no statement at this time and they should back off. The effort it took to present a normal façade and not sink to the ground left Logan shaking so badly by the time he settled in the driver's seat, he could barely get the keys in the ignition. Squealing out of the lot, he headed for Neptune and found himself back in the same dodgy liquor store as the last time, again buying a bottle of Patron Tequila. His little voice of reason which had stopped him from drinking last time could not penetrate his fog. He was too far over the edge to care what it could do to his probation or worse what it could do to his relationship with Veronica.

He had ditched his SUV down around the Camelot so he could not be tracked through it. At this point in the evening he was so drunk, he could barely see, much less remember silly details such as how he came to be there. He looked down and noticed the bottle of tequila was half empty but after months of sobriety, he unable to drink anymore. His choices were either to curl up and pass out here or find a way home. Stumbling to his feet, he made it about three steps before the Tilt-A-Whirl his stomach was riding caused him to be sick. He wasn't sure quite how he could heave that much considering the only thing in there at this point was alcohol.

Curling up on the sand, he wished Veronica was there to hold him and regretted lying to her about the day of his visit. There were few times in Logan's life where he had felt truly safe. When he was a little boy and his father was away on a shoot, his mother would let him sleep with her. She would wrap her arms around him from behind and pull him tight to her, assuring him that he was safe. She would whisper stories about magical kingdoms, great princes, and beautiful princesses; fairy tales that Aaron had a ripped away from him years before children should have to lose those dreams. He quickly learned his life was anything but a fairy tale but he had clung to the memory of his mother's sheltering arms and her soft voice whispering in his ear. During many beatings those memories were the only thing that kept him sane. It was the remembrance of those times that prevented him from hating her in later years as she stood by and let the abuse continue.

He had never been able to recapture that feeling of safety and love until Veronica held him. He had tried with Lilly but he always knew in the back of his mind that if the chips were down Lilly wouldn't stick around to see the outcome. When Veronica's small hand squeezed his or her arms wrapped around him, he felt like nothing could hurt him. He knew that she protected those she cared about with everything she had. She might be tiny but she projected the strength of a giant.

"Boo hoo! Oh quit feeling sorry for yourself already! Sheesh, so your father was an asshole, get over it. When did you decide drowning in whiny, self-pity was attractive?"

Jerking his head up, Logan looked in the direction of the voice. At first his vision was blurred so badly he couldn't see anything other than white skin and blonde hair. He was afraid Veronica had found him but with a few blinks his vision finally cleared enough for him to see that it was Lilly sitting cross-legged on the sand. "Shit, I am way beyond wasted. I'm having friggin' hallucinations."

Waving his words away with her hand Lilly responded, "You think I'm a figment of your imagination? You know that's not true Logan." She sat there silently, tilting her head to the side reminding him of Veronica when she wanted something, blonde hair blowing in the breeze. From his prone position he looked at his bottle wondering what the hell had been in it. Not realizing he had said that aloud, he was surprised when she rolled her eyes and continued, "There was nothing in your drink other than a lot of alcohol. I'm here because you're acting like an idiot. I'm supposed to be enjoying my afterlife but no all of you have to keep doing stupid things and forcing me to come back."

He snorted with laughter at that. "I'm acting like an idiot! I'm not the one who had an affair with an older man and got murdered. And if the dead come back to help the people they love then why hasn't Mom shown up? Have you seen her?"

"I was who I was and there wasn't anything you or anyone else could do to change that. As for your mom, I'm not the one who can answer those questions for you." He wanted to know who could answer his questions but she just shrugged and gave him a sad little smile.

"I miss her so much you know." He realized that Lilly was not going to give him any answers so he might as well drop the subject. In her low-cut red, sweater and hip-hugger jeans, she looked in death exactly how she had in life. He still thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen and let her know it.

"Thank you. One thing about death, I'll never grow old and fat. But what's with the video of me by the pool when I look like hell! There are so many other pictures they could show, but noooo, it's always me with the ghastly hair and blood all over the place. What is that?" She paused a beat, "Now I'm just one of the most beautiful girls? You used to think I was the most beautiful, but now I'm just one of many? Man, that sucks!"

"You'll always be in the top five." He smirked at her knowing that would piss her off even in death.

"Top five! Are you kidding? I still think I should be number one but I guess since I'm dead I could settle for number two. Top five…I should leave your sorry ass lying there alone."

"Ah, don't be mad Lilly. You will always be my first love." He had accepted the truth that as mad as he got when he thought about her and Aaron, Lilly would always own a little piece of real estate in his heart.

She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and gave him a patented Lilly smile. "So who's number one? Bet I can guess. Would it be Veronica Mars perhaps?"

Scowling, he looked down at the sand drawing in it with his fingers. "What, now that you're dead you know all? Is that how death works?"

She shrugged unconcernedly. "I know more things, but I hardly know everything. I don't know how it all works, but who cares. Come on, let's get to the good stuff, I want the scoop on you and Veronica. I have to tell you that one was a shocker. I never would have imagined you two would get together but dang those are some serious sparks you two put off there. It's amazing your house hasn't spontaneously combusted. I must have rubbed off more than I thought, who knew she had it in her? I'm impressed."

"Geez. Do you watch everything we do?"

"No I merely catch bits and pieces but when you practically set your house on fire kissing in the foyer, I'm bound to notice. Now come on, give me some dirt. Donut would never say much. He would only talk about how sweet and innocent she was and how much he loved her. Yuck. How boring…we were never boring were we?"

"No, we were never boring. And I'm not telling you about Veronica." He paused, contemplating what to ask her next. "So…are you upset about Veronica and me?"

She laughed heartily. "Are you kidding? I think it's hilarious. The good little princess with the rich bad boy...its so cliché that it's perfect. I never would have anticipated you and the old Veronica together, but she fits you well now. She's got more fire and won't take your crap. I admit I'm a little jealous. I always thought she needed a little more backbone but I never would have thought she get one made of steel. I like Veronica 2.0. I can just imagine the trouble we could have gotten ourselves into."

"I am sure that would have been quite a show. I'm not sure which I would have bet on to get into more?" She stuck out her tongue which caused him to let out a genuine laugh. "She's great but she's definitely not Duncan's Veronica. His girl was all candles, roses, smooth curves and soft music. My woman is dark and light all at once…sharp and cutting if you don't watch what you're doing. Like you and yet not at all like you."

"I'm not sure you meant that as a compliment but I'm taking it as one." She sat there silently watching him, seemingly enjoying the wind moving across her face. "I know you want to ask me about Aaron. I can't tell you why I did it. I was young and stupid, thought I could play with the big boys and found out the hard way that I was no more than a foolish little girl." She shrugged again.

"I'm sorry he hurt you." Tears gathered in his eyes as he remembered the video of her lying there beside the pool.

"It's not your fault. I took a gamble and lost. But speaking of that asshole, how much of your life are you going to let him destroy? He already took your childhood and most of your teens. You want him to have the rest of it too? Are you going to let him ruin your probation and the best relationship you'll ever have? Why don't you go home? She's worried and waiting for you."

"I don't want to go home. I don't want to see her."

"Oh God, are we back to this stupid self-pity? Get over yourself. I'm not here to feel sorry for you. You've been lying here long enough. Get your ass up and go home!"

"I can't go anywhere. I don't have my SUV and I'm fairly sure I couldn't drive even I did."

"Duh…that's what those handy little things called cell phones are for. Do I have to point out everything to you?"

"If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly drowning in friends willing to take care of my drunk ass. Duncan and I aren't exactly best friends these days."

"I noticed. I'm still a little pissed at you about that. Not to say he didn't deserve it but you didn't have to hit him that hard; he's had a rough time of it too. I wasn't talking about him anyway. Call that lawyer of yours; I'm sure he'll come get you."

He lay there trying to get his fingers to follow his directions and pull out his phone but he muttered one last thing, "I miss you Lilly."

Smiling she leaned closer to him. "Of course you do. I'm a very missable girl but there's another girl made of flesh and blood that needs you. Quit letting Aaron control your life and go home Logan." As his eyes drifted shut he swore he felt her lips on his forehead and heard her voice trailing away, "I miss you too Logan."

He didn't remember having called Cliff but he must have as the lawyer came and woke him up from his alcohol induced nap. As they neared the Echolls' estate, Cliff dropped Logan off so he could sneak over the back wall and avoid the press. He vaguely remembered the lawyer yelling at him about his probation and being stupid but it was drowned out by the tequila pumping through his veins.

Climbing over the wall, he misjudged his position and landed in the midst of one of his mother's prize rose bushes. He crawled out through the mud and stumbled towards the house. Walking across the patio, he glimpsed Veronica sleeping on the couch but not wanting to be deterred he snuck in a side door. An idea had occurred to him as he lay there listening to Lilly on the beach and he was determined to carry it out. He was going to exorcise Aaron from the house and his life once and for all. The plan sounded quite rational to his alcohol soaked brain but perhaps wouldn't have sounded so great to a sober one.

Heading straight for Aaron's study, he pushed open the door and was besieged with memories. Each one was like a wave rushing over him, trying to take him down. This room was nothing more than a self-indulgent shrine to a narcissistic psycho. He had lost count of the number of times he'd stood in that room over the years while Aaron beat him. A feeling of rage, not unlike what he had experienced at the prison, engulfed him.

Glancing around the room, he saw an autographed baseball bat his father cherished. He stalked across the room and ripped it off the wall. Using the bat, he started smashing all of Aaron's self-tributes. He smashed the framed Hair Trigger poster on the wall and a multitude of other crap. He wasn't even aware of Veronica entering the room until she screamed his name. He stumbled a little when he turned around and snarked, "Hey Ronnie. I didn't know you were here. Wanna join the fun?"

"Logan! What are you doing?"

"Presently I'm doing a little redecorating. Do you wanna help?"

Turning away from her look of abject horror, he lifted the bat again and smashed it across the desk. Debris and glass flew everywhere.

"Stop it! Stop it now!"

"Ahhhh…don't be such a buzz kill. You can't tell me you haven't wanted to smash some of his belongings. You said yourself you wanted to destroy the pool house, but it's too late for that. Here's your chance…a whole room full of his ego stroking possessions." He spun around, gesturing wildly at the room as he spoke. He felt dizzy, like the floor beneath him was being ripped away.

With a shaking voice, in an obvious attempt to act normal she said, "Logan let's go sit down in the living room. I know what happened today, let's go talk about it."

"Hmmm…no. I don't think I want to do that," he said shaking his head. "I think I'll stay right here." He paused, staring at her. He wondered what she could possibly see in him. "I hate this fucking room. If I could torch this room and his bedroom, I would. Ya wanna hear why I hate this room so much?" He stopped and waited for her acknowledgement that she wanted to know more. "This room is a shrine to the great Aaron Echolls, actor and family man extraordinaire. If people only knew the truth, they wouldn't think he was that great. This room…this room is where he usually liked to carry out his…punishment." He tried to put air quotes around the word punishment but wasn't sure it came out as anything more than a drunken hand motion. "You already know what his punishments entail don't you?" Walking a few steps away he continued, "This is about where I stood after I told the homeless shelter he was donating $500,000. Let me tell you, the expression on his face when I did that was worth every strike of the belt." He stepped over a few inches to the right. "Here is where I stood about an hour before I smashed in your headlights. I'm sure you've already guessed that your little joke resulted in a little more to my punishment than just my car being taken away." He paused again and took a breath willing himself to continue. "You know, he wasn't even pissed that I might be doing drugs. He was only pissed that I had been dumb enough to get caught and it might end up in the tabloids."

He noticed tears were streaming down her face. "I'm sorry Logan. I'm so sorry. I never meant…"

He could feel is heart shredding even more as he watched the tears fall. The fact she would attempt to apologize after everything he had done to her made him feel like an even bigger loser. Walking over he gently ran the back of his hand across her cheek, capturing her tears. So much hurt had passed between them he wasn't sure how they got past it. "Shh. There's no need to be sorry. If that hadn't been his excuse he would have just found another; though he really didn't even need a reason most days. I probably deserve a whole lot worse than that for everything I did to you last year." He placed a feather-light kiss on her forehead.

"You didn't deserve that, no one deserves that kind of treatment." She grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart. He could feel her heart beating rapidly in a staccato rhythm against his palm. "Please, let's get out of this place. Let's go in the other room. We can sit and talk about anything you want."

He yanked his hand away from her and ambled back across the room. He hated that she was so upset that she would beg him to escape this hell-hole. The anger and resentment continued flowing with an even stronger current through his mind. "Feel free to go in there yourself. I'm not nearly finished in here. I really should have had Mrs. Navarro pack this room up when she did the rest of the house. I don't really know why I didn't. I guess I was worried he might get out and come home and if he discovered that I had gotten rid of his stuff there would be real hell to pay. But I don't care anymore. Do you know why I don't care? It's because I realize that even if he does get out, he can't hurt me anymore than he already has…he killed the first girl I loved, drove my mother to suicide, and tried to flambé you. He will never hurt me or anyone else again. If he gets out, I will kill him." He looked her straight in the eye when he uttered the threat and there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that he could, and would, do it without a second thought.

"How did you get home Logan? I hope you didn't drive."

He was startled by her total disregard for his statement. He had been sure she would protest that he was better than that. Maybe she thought if she ignored it, it wouldn't be real. "How'd I get home? Umm…no...I didn't drive. I'm not even sure where my SUV is right now." He laughed harshly. "I called Cliff to come and get me. He's my attorney and supposed to help me, that's what I pay him for. Besides, that whole attorney/client privilege thing means he can't rat me out to the judge."

"Where is Cliff right now?"

"I'm not real sure. I think he might be parking his car but he's probably being held up down at the gate by the press. Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll run a few of them down." God he hated the press. They were like vultures hovering around, waiting to pick at the rotting corpses left by the road. The paparazzi had hounded him and his parents since he was little more than an infant. Aaron had played up his family man image so much that the press had felt that he was fair game even as a toddler. He couldn't even imagine how many photos of himself as a little child had appeared in various rags across the world.

She appeared completely freaked out by his mention of the press. How could she have not noticed them when she tried to get in the gate? Looking at him, she must have finally noticed something amiss. "Where have you been? Did the press see you when you came in?"

"Oh, I've been out and about. Just enjoying the vast array of scenery Neptune has to offer. Sadly the press did not get any good shots of me. Cliff dropped me off nearby and I snuck on the property by going over the back wall. I wanted to come in the front way but Cliff wouldn't hear of it."

"Is that how you got all that mud on you? And how you got all the scratches?"

"I fell in a rose bush coming over the back wall. I think the yardmen must have been here today as it was awfully muddy out there." She was looking at him like he wasn't making any sense. He supposed his words might be a little slurred but he wasn't speaking Swahili. 'Why is she so confused?'

He heard an insistent pounding on the front door. 'Oh goody. Cliff must be coming to the rescue again. I wonder if I am being charged his hourly rate for my lectures.' He really wished everyone would leave him alone. He didn't want or need their interference. He knew what needed to be done and he was doing it.

As the pounding continued and Veronica was rubbing her temple in an obvious show of stress, he realized that the best thing for her was to get away from him. He'd tried to tell her that before but she wouldn't listen. It was going to obliterate what there was left of his heart but he knew he needed to make her leave. He knew she would eventually leave him anyway so he might as well give her the incentive to do it sooner rather than later. "Yes, why don't you go answer the door? Better yet why don't you go home? Or go save someone who wants your help?" He stood there, daring her to walk out the door like everyone in his life did. "I don't want you here. I don't want your help."

He thought his voice was strong and his expression was impassive. He would have been stunned if he realized his voice broke and his eyes begged her to stay and help him. "I'm not leaving you. I'm staying right here…with you," she finished softly.

"Leave! I don't want you here," he screamed. Before she had a chance to say anything he heard that stupid the grandfather clock upstairs begin to chime 10. He was sick of the goddamned clock keeping him awake. The bat weighed heavily in his hand and he recognized that he had the means to ensure he never had to hear it again. Pushing past her, he ran up the stairs, forgetting about her pleading and the pounding of the door. He was intent on only one thing…finally getting the sound of that clock out of his head. Maybe if he could get rid of that sound, he could also get rid of the sound of Aaron's voice repeatedly mocking him.

His anger and resentment were only fueled more by the roiling of the alcohol in his stomach as he destroyed one of Aaron's favorite things. He was barely aware of Veronica, now joined by Cliff, arriving on the scene. He wouldn't remember later what was said but he was vaguely aware of throwing out some wild accusations about how they looked at him.

So far he'd managed to destroy a large part of Aaron's monument to himself and his stupid clock, now there was only the bedroom left to deal with. Turning he advanced down the hall and pushed open the double doors. He froze on the threshold as yet more memories swept over him. He thought of his mother's funeral and how that hypocritical bastard had sat there and went on and on about loving his family and how he wanted to make it better. By this time, Logan was so lost in his own memories and emotions that he was unaware of Veronica and Cliff behind him as he rambled on about old memories, including those of birthdays that ended in violence.

Logan felt almost like he was somewhere else watching the scene play out in front of him. It was as if he floated across the room to the closet with glass doors, leisurely running his hands lightly up and down the glass. He was completely captivated by the pattern of the etchings. It was an innocuous looking item that hid his family's nasty little secrets. He didn't even hear Veronica talking to him or feel her touching his back.

Reaching forward, he pushed the doors apart to reveal the closet with an unbelievable amount of belts. Spellbound, he fingered the leather of the individual belts. Fiddling with a brown, intricately weaved belt, he remembered how that belt was the one that always broke the skin, leaving small scars that never completely vanished. The wide, black, smooth one was the one that hurt the least but its buckle was the one Aaron was most likely to accidentally strike him with. The thin, black one was the most painful, as it felt like a razor slicing across his skin. He had no idea that his observations were not taking place inside his head but being whispered out loud for Veronica and Cliff to hear.

Deciding it was time for this all to end, Logan gathered all of the belts in his arms and headed for the balcony door. Kicking the door open he walked out and threw the belts over the side into the backyard. He watched as they fell to the ground, curled up like snakes waiting to strike. The resentment and rage had finally disappeared with this last act. He barely made it back into the room before his knees buckled and he gave into the grief. The sobs overtook him as he knelt there with his face buried in the carpet.

While not consciously aware of what was happening beyond his misery, somewhere in his heart he sensed when Veronica came over, knelt next to him and gathered him in her arms. She rocked him, stroking his hair, whispering over and over that it would be alright. She swore he would never suffer at the hands of Aaron or anyone else. His mind did not hear a word she said but her words were forever imprinted on his heart; chiefly the promise that she would never leave him.

He had the vague sensation of being hauled off the floor and into his bedroom but nothing registered past the mist clouding his mind. He reveled in the feeling of her small hands stroking him, assuring him everything would be ok. As much as he wanted to believe her, keep her with him, he knew she needed get away for her own well-being. He told her that repeatedly but his unconscious clinging to her hand contradicted his words. While he would never have a completely clear recollection of the night's events, his heart memorized the feel of her lying down next to him, stroking his hair until he was asleep. When she finally climbed under the sheets with him, he snuggled as close as he could to her warmth and comfort. Unfortunately, he had fallen back asleep by the time she mumbled, "I love you Logan. And I'm not going to let you fuck this up."