She's never been much for crying. It's the complete loss of power-of control, and though she hates to admit it, she lives for both. Out of power comes stability, and that's what she craves most. Crying ruins things; her parent's marriage, her hatred for Logan Echolls, the fragile stability of her state of mind…She'd only cried once after Lilly's death, hiding deep in the shadows of her bedroom-the only one Lilly would ever know, the one that wouldn't be hers tomorrow. She'd cried for all the memories that they wouldn't share, and for the ones that they had, that she couldn't rekindle anywhere else. She'd cried because everything she'd ever known was gone, and without this bedroom, without this house, she wouldn't even have those memories to fall back on. They would be lost forever, the times of innocence and grace, and there would be no looking back. On that day she vowed never to be weak again.
She cried the morning she'd left Toff's apartment, and it was Toff's, nothing in it belonged to her anymore-maybe it never had. She cried, as she let herself out for the last time, leaving her key beneath the Red Sox welcome mat. As pink streaked the morning sky, she cried as she climbed into Logan's bed, her tears adding fresh scars to the ones already marring his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her shaking form, whispering sweet nothings into her hair, trying desperately to make things right-to make it better, but nothing could make her stop. Veronica Mars was broken, and there was nothing he could do to fix her.
"Could you grab me my purse off the dresser?" She calls out, pulling her ribbed green sweater over her head, her mulberry lip-gloss rubbing off as she tugs it down. She looks at herself in the bathroom mirror, her eyes cold and dead, her skin pale. She looks like death, and feels worse but there's nothing she can do. She can feel him behind her; can sense his presence in every room of this house, and leans into back into him, closing her eyes as she settles into his warmth.
"I left it by the door." He murmurs against the skin of her neck, the feel of his breath whispering tingles down her spine. He knows there's something wrong, knows that they should talk more, but he can't resist her. He wants her too much. He needs her too much, though he wishes he didn't. Loving her as much as he does will only make things more complicated.
"Thank you," She murmurs, turning to stand on the tips of her toes and brushing her lips against his. Her fingers tangle in his hair, and in this one moment, she feels whole again. It won't last for long, she knows. She'll be empty again when he leaves, but these moments are better an entirety of vacancy.
"I have to meet a client at The Four Seasons at 2." His words slip out in short, quick bursts even as she's settling herself on the sink and unbuckling his pants, pulling him towards her, her arms twining tighter around his neck, her lips never leaving his.
"It's," She lifts an arm from his back, inspecting her watch as she carefully nips his lips. "It's 1:37. You can make it in time." He's inside her before she can finish, and he can feel her smile against his mouth. He wraps his arm around her, the other bracing the wall next to the mirror for good measure, and tries to fill her with his warmth. He can see how harried she is most days, that she only really comes alive during these brief interludes of theirs, but there's nothing he can do. He's still unused to waking up with her in the morning, surprised each day at the shadow her body casts against his in the early morning sunlight. He bucks against her, losing himself, and even forgetting his name for a moment until she whispers it hot, against his neck. When he's sated and she relaxes against him, her arms loosening their grip on his neck, he looks down at her, and falls in love all over again. She looks like a tumbled angel, her hair strewn in every which way, her eyes bloodshot and satisfied. There is definite satisfaction on her face, but it isn't happiness, it isn't contentment, and he isn't sure if he can handle his inability to give her those things.
"I think we should move back to Neptune." He says as he eases out of her, and her eyes widen as he zips up his pants.
"What?" She mumbles, smoothing her palms over her face and rubbing her temples for good measure. She couldn't have heard him right. He leans forward again, brushing his lips against hers before she has a chance to respond. "We'll talk about this more when I get home." Home. She loves the taste of the word in her mouth, but even more so on his lips. He says home as if this little bubble they've created really is paradise. She shudders to think what will find them if they leave.
It isn't much better when he gets back from work. They've never fought as hard before, all the sweetness and beauty of what they'd created ruined under the acid of their words.
"I just want you to be happy, Veronica!" He's standing in the middle of their makeshift den, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose, his eyes wide.
"I am happy!" She fires back, but they both know she's lying. Still, she won't back down. She doesn't need anyone to take care of her, she's been doing that on her own for years.
"Veronica, we don't have to go anywhere I just-" He tries to fix things, his tone gentle, his eyes pleading with her to let this go, but she can't. She's too far gone, and she's too angry to realize how much damage she's doing.
"You just? You just what, Logan? I'm not some little girl you can shepherd back and forth. You can't compartmentalize me into some little box that you do everyone else." She looks at him with disgust, and he can feel the bile rising in his throat. This isn't what he'd wanted. This isn't what he'd wanted at all, but he has no way of showing her that. No way of proving to her that he doesn't want to control her, only to love her. She doesn't seem to be open to either option at the moment.
"Veronica, I love you." He pleads, his brown eyes pained and liquid, and she gasps, because she can feel his heart breaking. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want to fight, doesn't want to be mad, but she can't help it. She's his to do anything he wants with, and that scares her to death.
"I love you too," She murmurs, flinching as he moves to touch her. She takes a step back, her hands rubbing the cold out of her arms. He settles on the couch, rubbing his temples, looking anywhere but at her.
"You're not happy." The words are barely a whisper, but he looks at her as he says them, his eyes boring into her as they've always been able to, and she hears them. She knows he's right, but it's not his fault. She doubts he'll believe this. "I can't make you happy." This much is true, but it's because of her. Tears fill her eyes-traitorous tears that wash over her cheeks even as she attempts to blink them away.
"Logan, it's not you." No matter how hard she wipes, the tears won't go, won't stop coming. She doesn't want to lose him-she can't live without him, but she feels him slipping away, even as she turns away.
"Then who is it, Veronica?" They're angry words, and if he'd uttered them with anything but the gentle tone he's used, she would have fired back, torn right into him instead of dealing with the problem. Because there is one and it's her fault.
"You got to go away." She murmurs, settling on the couch behind him, her toes leaving prints on the glass of the coffee table as she settles her feet there.
"What?" She's opening up, he can already sense some of the wall coming down, and his breath catches as he looks at her.
"You got to go away. Back to Neptune, back to class, back to a meeting…you got to go away-got to go back to your life. You never had to deal with the guilt."
"Veronica-" She holds up her hand to stop him, wiping the tears from her eyes as she does so.
"Just let me finish, Okay?" He nods his Okay, and a light smile tips the corners of her lips.
"I lied, I cheated, I went against everything I believed in for you." His heart is beating so hard that he can swear she can hear it from her perch a few cushions away. He knows what she says is true, but he'd always hoped that he was worth it. That they were worth it. "And then, I met Toff." He bites his lip as he voice smoothes over the word, her tone clipped and careful. "I really loved him, Logan." She looks into his eyes as she says the words, and he can feel the ground shake beneath him at her words. "He was everything you weren't. Sweet, soft, thoughtful, present. And when you didn't make any sort of contact for a year-" He opens his mouth to remind her that he couldn't tell her when he'd left. That he hadn't been given the time. They've had this argument one too many times for his taste, but she holds up her hand for him to stop. "I know. You had no choice. But I didn't know that at the time. I was so tired and so angry at you for leaving and not saying goodbye. When I met Toff I was broken and scary and I used him." She's talking more to herself now, than to him, but he's all for anything that will make things better. He can't lose her. "I pretended that I was free. That I could love him-and he was so wonderful to me…" He can feel the anger bubbling through him, surprised to hear the tinkle of her laugh wafting around him. "I know that face, Logan, but I have to say this. I never wanted to hurt him. He made my life good for a really long time. If you hadn't come back the way you did, I could have been happy with him." He knows this much is true, but he wishes it weren't. Life would be so much easier if she could see herself with no one but him. "Did you know that when he asked me to marry him at first, I said no?" He hadn't, but he nods so that she'll continue. "And I kept saying no until he looked at me one day and said, Veronica Mars, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you don't need a piece of paper, I don't either." She smiles at this, and he can feel his heart constricting. He doesn't want to hear this. He can't hear this. He moves to stand, but the feel of her fingers on his arm stop him. "I didn't think you would care, Logan. I didn't think it would hurt as much as it did. But I could have never gone through with it. Not really. Even if you hadn't sent my father cross country to tell me not to." There are tears in her eyes this time, and if he didn't know better, he'd think she was smiling through them. Which didn't make much sense in the great Mars scheme of things. "He was my best friend. I never thought someone could love me as much as he did. That's why I'm not happy, Logan. Not because of you," She cups his cheek with her hand, her fingers cool against his face as she presses the lightest of kisses against his lips. "You're perfect." He knows it isn't true, but doesn't protest when she deepens the kiss, her fingers adeptly freeing him from the confines of his shirt, her arms wrapped tightly around him. He knows that this isn't the last fight, but his last rational thought as she kisses the column of his neck is that it can only get better from here.
She can feel his heart beating strong and sturdy beneath her ear, his breathing heavy against her naked skin. He's asleep, and as she cranes her neck to look up at him, a wave of contentment courses through her. It may not be easy, but it's worth it.
Fin.