Veronica watches him, a boy who hates her, and for a reason she understands and can respect, if not fully agree with. A boy she hates, for several reasons. A boy she's stopped hating, over the past few weeks. A former friend who needed someone desperately now.
She has no idea what drove her to come to him. She likes to think it might have been Lilly's ghost. It might have been the look on Logan's face when he left the journalism room, though, combined with the comments on the radio on the way home, and her newfound knowledge about him. She wants to kick herself for not noticing earlier. She wants to be angry with Duncan and Lilly for not telling her. But it wasn't their secret to tell. She wants to call her dad, have him pick them both up and keep them safe. She wants to kill Aaron Echolls in painful, creative ways. But she doesn't. She just holds him, because turning this into another media pageant wouldn't help anybody. She feels sorry for him, for his loss, for his show. But she doesn't quite pity him. Not really. She knows he'd hate that.
She can't forget coming to the house, though. She tried to get in through his private entrance, and was cornered by a maid. As soon as she identified herself as a classmate of Logan's, the maid tried to shoo her away. Veronica decided to stop playing, and demanded to see him, telling the maid she already knew there was something wrong. The maid showed her to Logan's bedroom, which she hadn't seen in over a year, and explained he'd been brought up maybe ten minutes before, and they were starting to worry. Starting. She would've given her a piece of her mind, but didn't. Logan was more important than lecturing the help about actually helping.
She isn't sure what she'd tell him when he woke up. The credit card trace was practically useless, and there were no other leads. She knows what it feels like, to have your mother run out and abandon you. It's worse than knowing she's dead, in a way. But she doesn't know what to say, so she waits, lets him doze a little, before they start living again, even if he doesn't want to. She has things to tell him. Wonders whether she should call Duncan, but her cell is in her bag, on the other side of the bed, and the regular phone is nowhere to be seen. It'd wait. But she needed to call him. He knew what to do, even in his weird drug-haze thing.
It's not a very long wait. Her butt just about starts to fall asleep when he moves, stretches, and whimpers in pain. Her hands automatically move to stroke him carefully, but she pulls away, embarrassed and uncomfortable, when he opens his eyes.
"You're still here." He sounds surprised, not entirely angry, but not too welcoming, either. Slowly, painfully, he pulls away from her and pushes himself up, wrapped in the sheet for modesty. He looks down and blushes a little.
"Of course I'm here." She replies neutrally, smiling- she knows what he's thinking, and even now it's kind of nice that he can be embarrassed about it. "Don't worry, you were in your birthday suit when I got here. One of the house staff helped you out there."
"Oh." A spark of his normal confidence returns, but he still looks worn and miserable. He sits there quietly for a few moments, not looking at her still, before something appears to float up in his mind. "Why did you come, again? I mean, what gave you the idea that you were welcome?"
She glares at him. "Last I checked, you were still paying me." He flinches, and she stops. She's angry because he's lashing out, and she's doing exactly the same back to him- she's furious at his parents for letting it happen, at herself for not knowing, and she's taking it out on him. Great work, Veronica. She lowers her voice a little as she continues, trying to sound calmer than she is. She's working, not just helping out a friend. When did she go back to thinking about Logan as a friend? "I thought you still wanted to find your mother."
He subsides, some of the anger burning itself out. "I do. The credit card?"
"Yeah." She nods, but there's not much hope there. "I'll have a bit more information on it later tonight. You left so fast I wasn't even sure you'd heard me. But…I wouldn't get my hopes up, Logan. It could be a mistake."
"And it could be my mother." He said, hardness coming back into his voice and face. How dare she kill whatever's left of his hopes? "I'm not going to give up because of some stupid video." But he is, and he has, and they both know it. He was sure there were no more tears left in him, but his eyes are misting again and he blinks angrily. Not now, and not again, with her watching. "So now what?"
"We wait until I get another call." She shrugs. "Doesn't happen in a day, you know." She knows he's hurting, and she hates to add to it. Suddenly she doesn't even want to leave anymore. Unless…"I'm taking you home."
"What am I now, a puppy?" He gives her a look, "Get real, Ronnie."
"I am real." She pushes at his arm lightly. "Your dad may be drinking himself to sleep downstairs, but you can't stay here. I'd take you to Duncan's, but I'm not persona most grata at the Kane household, for some reason. So, you're coming home with me for a bit, until I can get Duncan to come over and pick you up."
He glares at her, still, anger and humiliation and resignation warring within him. She doesn't look away, returning his stare equally, so certain of her righteousness it's disgusting. Finally he growls, as much as a teenaged voice can growl, "Get out Ronnie."
Steady eyes, not blinking, not moving, and he sighs. Speaking very slowly, and using small words, he repeats himself. "Ve-ro-ni-ca. Get out. I want to get dressed. Ok?"
Bright smile. "Sure. Why didn't you say so sooner?" And he suddenly remembers how much he'd like to strangle her sometimes, the perky little brat. She learned from the best, though, and no one ever beat Lilly at the cute-yet-lethal game. He scowls at her ineffectually and shoos her out.
He has special clothes for these events. Loose shorts, shirt a few sized bigger that he usually wore. Looked like a surfer dude, but a least it didn't rub against anything. Shoes, glance in the mirror- oh, god. God-damn.
"Ronnie, get back here." He shouts. Like a genie, she appears far too quickly. Must've been right out his door. Giving him a worried look. He hates the note of despair in his voice. "I can't go out like this." Obvious tear strains, his eyes red, face kind of blotchy. This doesn't happen in movies. "They'll see me."
"Logan…" a surprised giggle escapes, and he's reminded than she's still younger than him, and that both of them are still kids. "You are such a drama queen sometimes. Go wash your face, you'll be fine. Nobody's going to see you."
"Hello? Earth to Mars?" They both smile faintly at the overused pun, "We've been under siege for days, Veronica. Every tabloid and teen magazine has people parked outside. I can't risk it."
"They didn't see me come in." She says confidently. It's almost enough to reassure him, for a moment. "Nobody ever notices the help coming in. We're going out the same way. Like, do you want a paper bag to cover your face? 'Cause that can become a permanent fixture if it works for you. Do the rest of us a favor." Gentle snark, her expression shows she's doing it more for normality's sake than out of malice and he's absurdly grateful. He's tired of people walking on eggshells around him and whispered comments behind his back. Finally he nods.
"Ok. But this going to ruin my reputation…" He heads towards his bathroom and over the water her voice floats over to him.
"Don't worry, I won't threaten your virtue."
It's almost enough to make him laugh.
