Title: Bright, Chapter Two
Author: Lois Fogg (utsusemia on livejournal)
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, ensemble
Word Count: 5,600 Rating: R (for language, to be safe)
Summary: When Logan succumbs to a mysterious and possibly deadly illness, Veronica is determined to discover who is responsible...and why.
Spoilers: After Plan B, but before I Am God
Notes: Whew, I finally wrote another chapter! Thanks so much to all the people who commented on A Feather's Weight. If you're reading this, I hope you like this too.
Chapter Two: Eat Shit and Smile
When Wallace burst into his office that afternoon, Keith was already worried. Veronica had promised to come by right after school to help him with some filing before her shift at the Hut. Usually, if she was going to be late, she called, but his phone remained silent and all his calls to her went straight to voicemail.
Wallace was carrying her bag with him, which Keith knew was a very bad sign. His girl didn't go anywhere without her cell phone and taser.
"Mr. Mars, Veronica's missing."
Keith had expected it, but Wallace's words still hit him like a punch to the gut. "Okay, sit down and tell me what happened."
Wallace sat, but he drummed his hands on his knee like he could hardly stand to sit still. Keith sympathized. "I think she left study hall to talk to Logan, but she never came back and now Logan's car is missing."
"Wait, she wanted to talk to Logan? By herself?" Goddamn it, Keith had never trusted that kid around his daughter.
Wallace stared at the ground like he was embarrassed about something. "Yeah. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all."
Keith stood and fetched his taser and cell phone from his office. "Are you sure his car is missing? What about Veronica's?"
"I drove it here. Her keys were in the bag. And Logan's car..." He raised his eyebrows.
"Right. Kind of hard to miss." After a moment's thought, Keith went back into the closet and pulled out his gun. When it came to Veronica, he couldn't afford to take any chances.
"Let's go."
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Lamb had, for once, been very accommodating to Keith's concerns. Of course, Keith knew it had more to do with hating the spoiled Logan Echolls than growing a brain, but anything that made the sheriff actually do his job was fine by him. Half an hour after putting out an APB on the yellow XTerra they received a report. A cop car dropping a bloody perp at the emergency room had seen it parked in the ambulance lane.
Not for the first time, Keith wished he was still the sheriff. With the sirens blaring, Lamb made it to the hospital nearly three minutes before him--and that only because Keith decided to take a liberal approach to the traffic laws. Of all the places to discover them...
"Man, the hospital," Wallace said during the ride there. "But she's gotta be okay. I mean, Veronica Mars. She could deal with that punk in her sleep."
Keith smiled briefly, but he was too worried to respond.
Deputy Sacks and another officer were inspecting the vehicle when Keith arrived.
"Where's Lamb?"
Sacks jerked his head towards the double glass doors, through which Keith could see the sheriff arguing with the receptionist.
"Find anything interesting here?" he asked, hoping that his casual tone would make them forget he wasn't part of the investigation.
Sacks shrugged. "No sign of forced entry or struggle."
Keith peered past his shoulder. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a half-opened pastry box in the back seat. It had been turned on its side and he could see a few pink sugar cookies falling out. The other officer shrugged. "Looks like it was wrapped up," he said, pointing to the gold ribbon. "Maybe a gift?"
Maybe, Keith thought, but for whom?
Sack's eyebrows drew together in sympathy. "We'll let you know if we find anything..." Keith heard the implied "Sheriff" and smiled briefly before hurrying inside. He could hear Lamb's shout as soon as the automatic doors slid open.
"What do you mean, she's not here"
"I'm sorry sheriff, no one of that name was checked in--"
Lamb slammed his hand down on the desk. "Listen, lady. I don't care how much the kid paid you. You're going to start telling the truth right now, or I'll drag you down to the station and question you there. Maybe I'll even hold you overnight. Loosen your tongue. Got it?"
She nodded manically, but Keith could tell from here that she wasn't hiding anything. He sighed and walked up next to Lamb.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry," he said--automatically playing good cop to Lamb's bad (not as though there was generally another option with the good sheriff). "I understand you have no record of Veronica Mars, but we've had reports that she and Logan Echolls came here together and if you have any information--"
Lamb glared at him. "You're not a part of this investigation, Mars," he said, biting out each word.
At the same time the receptionist started and Keith noted how her eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Oh, you're looking for Logan Echolls," she said, her voice nervously accommodating. "I'm sorry sheriff, but you can't see him just now. But if you'd like to wait, I'll call the doctor and see if she can help you."
Lamb's scowl deepened. "Can't see him just now?" he mimicked, cruelly. "I'm sorry, lady, but do you see this?" He pulled out his badge. "This means that I can damn well see anyone I want."
"What's going on?" At the sound of her voice, obviously healthy, Keith's knees sagged with relief.
"Veronica!" Wallace ran to hug her. After a moment, Veronica hugged him back, her face a picture of surprised confusion.
Keith was a step behind him. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, looking her over. She seemed tired, and her eyes were ominously puffy and bloodshot, but she didn't look hurt. He wondered why he would have taken her to the hospital.
"Did who hurt me, Dad"
"Logan, honey," he said gently. "When you didn't come back to class and Wallace saw Logan's car was gone...we worried"
Something was distracting her. He saw from the look of dawning horror on her face that their worry had never occurred to her. Something else was going on.
"Oh God, Dad, Wallace, I'm so sorry. I should have called. I just...forgot."
Lamb had stepped up, and was staring at Veronica like he wouldn't mind arresting her for his troubles. "So he didn't hurt you." His voice was flat.
A small laugh escaped her lips, dangerously close to a sob. "Hurt me?" she looked up at Keith and he could see she was biting the inside of her cheek.
"Dad, he's in the ICU."
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They wouldn't let her in the ICU. It was for family members only, the doctor told her. Veronica, very reasonably she thought, pointed out that as Logan had no family this meant no visitors at all, but instead of responding to her well-thought-out argument, Dr. Michaels suggested she go to the bathroom and take a break. Veronica stared at herself in the bathroom mirror for a long time. She hadn't realized she'd been crying. What was she crying for, anyway? Lost opportunities. Lingering glances in the hallways. Locker conversations that always left her feeling a little breathless and giddy, even when she hated him. The way his hands closed, oh so tentatively, around her waist at the dance...
Did he really try to kill himself?
Could she have stopped him?
A half hour and several splashes of cold water later, she had gathered herself enough to leave the bathroom. Almost immediately she heard some kind of ruckus coming from the reception area. She recognized the shouting voice with a sigh--honestly, why couldn't Sheriff Lamb just do the world a favor and jump off a cliff?--and walked slowly down the hall.
It took a while to sort everything out. Her voice during all of the explanations and apologies surprised her and made her distantly proud. It was steady, calm. Only the slightest occasional tremor betrayed the fact that Logan's presence on the other side of the hospital--where she didn't even know if he was still alive--was like a vicious parasite gnawing through her insides. It might get better if she could just sit by him, look at his face, but then again, when had she ever gotten what she wanted? That's Neptune for you, baby--just eat shit and smile.
Her father touched her shoulder, gently, when she was finished. He had such a look of concern on his face it was all she could do not to break down right in front of him.
Wallace just leaned back in the plastic chair and let out a disbelieving sigh. "Antifreeze? Damn, that's intense. What's so wrong with sleeping pills? Or a good old-fashioned bullet?"
Veronica froze, her mind catching like a burr on the image of Logan deliberately putting a gun to his head.
"Shit, Veronica, I'm sorry...I didn't mean--"
Wallace cut off his embarrassed apology when Veronica abruptly stood up. "I'm going to get some food from the cafeteria," she said, aware that her voice was painfully faux-perky and unable to do anything about it. "Do you want anything?"
Her father and Wallace shook their heads. She got the impression that her father was surprised; he had wanted to take her home.
"It's going to be a long night," she said deliberately. "You don't have to stick around. I'll call if something comes up, I promise."
Wallace's jaw set and her father just laced his fingers behind his head. "I think these chairs are pretty darn comfortable. Don't you, Wallace?"
Wallace grinned. "Oh, absolutely Mr. Mars. I could sit here all night."
She couldn't help but smile. The ones she loved were always worth it.
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"Okay, that's it, Nurse Starchild officially needs her phone confiscated. I'm going to complain to the management."
"About what? That we couldn't sneak into an ICU patient's room because one of the nurses was doing her sister's horoscope?"
Wallace looked around the corner again to glower at the nurse, whose massive sun and moon earrings were clicking against the cell phone. This late at night, she was the only staff member in this section of the ward, but she might as well have been a dragon for all they were getting past her.
"Actually," Wallace said, "I think she finished the star charts. Now it sounds more like...you know, that Chinese shit. 'If you place your ass at ten degrees north with a jade cylinder...'"
Veronica couldn't help but crack a smile. "Feng shui, Wallace."
He raised his eyebrows. "What I said."
"Hmm...do you think if we told her the magnetic poles were re-aligning she would rush home to change her mandalas?"
"Nah, she'd probably just call up her extended family."
Veronica sidled past Wallace to peer around the corner. Nurse Starchild was leaning on the wall across from Logan's door, fiddling with her dream catcher charm bracelet.
"And girl, you would not believe how happy Henry is since I bought that copper sea serpent for the bathroom...that man's bowels are so regular now he whistles when he has to go."
"Oh god, did I just hear that?"
Wallace mimed a gag. "Man, that's some serious TMI."
"I don't know...she's a nurse. A nurse's entire job description is TMI. She probably puts her bowel movements on her livejournal."
Veronica reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed half a number, looked around the corner and then dialed the rest. As the phone rang, she walked farther down the hall, away from the nurse and Wallace followed her.
"Gotta say, though," she said, as the phone rang, "those are some pretty nifty earrings."
Wallace stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "Who're you calling?"
She just put her finger to her lips. God, how she loved action.
"Hello, who is this?" The accent was Caribbean--a little thicker than Nurse Starchild's but the voices bore a lot in common.
"Hello, this is your cell phone services identity theft division. Am I speaking with the owner of this phone?"
"Veronica," Wallace whispered, "what the hell kind of accent is that?"
She frowned and made a shooing motion with her hand. "Yes, ma'am, we have identified some anomalies on your bill. It seems you have gone significantly over your monthly minutes, about three hundred extra so far this billing period, and we were concerned that this might be evidence of identity theft?"
The woman seemed appropriately concerned. "Oh lord! Three hundred...God almighty, are you sure?"
"Quite sure, ma'am. We see a number of these calls were made to...Neptune General Hospital...is that familiar to you? We just need to inform you that each extra minute is a one dollar fee."
"One dollar! Lord, love, let me call you folks back, alright? I got to get off the phone with my sister..."
Veronica's end went dead and she put the phone back in her pocket. Wallace was leaning against the opposite wall, staring at her with his arms crossed.
"That, my dear Wallace, is how it gets done." He continued to frown at her, so she sighed. "All right, my best outsourced-Indian telephone company grunt worker impersonation."
"It sorta sucked."
Veronica shrugged and scrunched her nose a little. "It might need some fine tuning."
She walked back to the corner where Nurse Starchild had been chatting for the last hour to see that, thank goodness, she had finally put away her cell phone.
"How did you figure out her sister's number, anyway?" Wallace whispered over her shoulder.
Veronica smiled. She got more of a kick than was probably healthy out of being clever. "Starchild's earrings. That moon is so big it reflected the screen on her cell phone. I read the number she was talking to backwards."
Wallace had the grace to look impressed. "So how are we gonna get in there, Encyclopedia?"
Veronica focused on the hall for a moment. Still no doctors around, and there hadn't been for at least the last two hours. They also hadn't pulled out the body bags yet, so that had to be a good sign. She hoped, anyway. No way to know for sure until she saw him, and the stress of it was increasingly difficult to deal with. The nurse was poking her head into all the rooms in the hall. She didn't pause over Logan, which Veronica chose to interpret positively. Unfortunately, she was also heading quickly to their corner, which meant they didn't have very much time.
Veronica nudged Wallace. "Go talk to her."
"Oh no. You think I want my colon realigned? No way."
"Just distract her Wallace, please? I've got to get in that room."
They were just whispering, but of course Wallace heard the desperation in her voice. She was nearly cracking with the stress, and he knew it.
He touched her elbow gently. "Okay. For as long as you need it."
"Hey, excuse me ma'am, but I'm trying to find the bathroom?"
The nurse was startled. "Sir, if you go back to the visitor's--"
Wallace rolled his eyes, but so slightly only Veronica noticed. "You know, I tried, but it's so hard to find a positive energy bathroom in this hospital, isn't it? This is the only section where the chakras really feel properly aligned!"
Veronica had to cover her mouth to muffle her surprised laughter. As their voices receded, she realized that Wallace had never told her everything was going to be okay.
And she was very grateful that she had friends who knew when to eschew the bullshit.
--------------------------------------------
Well, did Logan count as a friend? He counted as alive at least, which was a relief too great to allow for rational thought for at least five mutes. She just sat in the chair beside his bed and anticipated heartbeats. His and hers, beating beautifully out of sync. Her heart wouldn't slow down enough to match his. It sped along nearly twice as fast, propelled by nerves and fear and anger.
"Jesus Logan, you look terrible, you know that?" she whispered. His face was ashen, his eyes were red rimmed with deep purple shadows beneath. He had a breathing tube in his throat and what seemed like a dozen probes and IVs trailing from his body.
So, did he do it to himself? Had he attempted to shake off his mortal coil and just ended up tangled in it? But with antifreeze? Surely among the many benefits of wealth was having your pick of less painful suicide methods.
"I mean, this is Southern California. Can you even buy antifreeze here?"
She almost expected to hear him give some witty rejoinder, despite the tube down his throat and the coma. A few seconds of expectant waiting, and then she started crying.
Just a little.
"It's going to be okay," she told herself, because no one else would.
She leaned back in her chair, stared bleakly at him.
"Ah, nothing like the smell of bullshit in the morning."
It was his voice, but she knew she was asleep.
--------------------------------------------
Doctor Michaels woke her in the morning. Veronica burbled awake with some incoherent excuse on her lips, but the doctor just smiled and handed her a tissue.
Veronica stared at it, cluelessly. Logan was still alive--she heard his heartbeat.
"You've got a bit of drool," she said, gesturing helpfully to her face.
Veronica grimaced and wiped her mouth. "I'm really sorry," she said, when she finished, "I just couldn't stand being out there, not knowing--"
She smiled. "I understand. I don't...endorse it, but I understand. Now why don't you let me finish my checkup on Logan while you wait outside, okay?"
Of course she wanted to stay, but she could hardly refuse the person who had just given her a get out of jail free card for breaking a big hospital rule red-handed, so she meekly shuffled out into the hallway.
It was much busier now than it had been a few hours ago, and no one paid her much attention when she found a nearby bench and sat down. Still alive the next morning. That had to be good, right?
The doctor came out fifteen minutes later.
"Okay," Veronica said as she sat down beside her, "no overt frowns, no body bags...tell me something good?"
Dr. Michaels put her hand over Veronica's nervously twitching one, which just annoyed her. She didn't need to be coddled. She'd handled worse, for god's sake.
"He's doing much better," she said. "Not great, but much better. I think he's out of danger for the short term."
Veronica shuddered. She couldn't help it. "Short term?"
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but our initial tests show that his kidneys have failed almost completely, and what limited function they have now will give out soon. Even with dialysis, he'll only live a few years without a kidney, given how much his body has already taken from the poison."
Veronica laughed, only a little hysterically, but still several of the nurses stopped to stare at her. "A kidney, that's all? Well, lucky him, that's what money's for, right?" She lowered her voice faux-confidentially. "He's got lots of it. How much do you have to pay to get a kidney 'round these parts, anyway?"
The doctor looked mildly offended. "No hospital in this country lets rich patients pay for their organs, Veronica. He'll have to go on the list like everyone else."
Of course. She knew that...too bad the real world couldn't be more like General Hospital. "So, where on the list will he be, exactly?" She asked, far more contritely.
The doctor glanced away and her left hand began to fiddle with the cross she kept around her neck. It didn't take much of her Dad's training for Veronica to deduce nervousness.
"Near the top, actually," she said. "But in his case, I doubt it's going to help."
Veronica's voice was just as quiet. "Why not?"
"His antibody levels are incredibly high. His blood type, his tissues...finding a match for him will be very difficult. Also, he's on the list now, but I have to tell you the fact that there's a good chance this is suicide makes him a risky candidate. They might pull him even if we find a suitable donor in time."
Veronica's voice was rough, like someone who suddenly had trouble breathing. "He didn't attempt suicide."
"I know you don't like the idea, but what else could it have been?"
She shook her head, perhaps a bit too forcefully. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"
"No guarantee he'd tell me the truth, if he knew what was at stake. And we aren't going to wake him up for the next few days, at least."
Veronica nodded slowly. She was too groggy and this was too important. "But for now, he's on the list, right?"
Michaels nodded. "In his situation, you know, a related donor is usually the best bet. You're certain he has no living family?"
Veronica had a sudden flash of Aaron's face reflected in her rearview mirror as she swerved desperately off the road.
"No one worth bothering," she said.
--------------------------------------------
Her father took her home after that. He insisted that she sleep, and she was too drained to protest.
"So, about Logan," he said, awkwardly, when they entered the apartment. Her body stiffened--she didn't want to talk about it.
"Why didn't you tell me you were...seeing each other again?"
She almost choked on her saliva. "Gee, Dad, you really know how to cap a great day, don't you?" She glared at him, but he just looked at her evenly. She knew that look. He was trying to read her the way he read his suspects and bail-jumpers.
"So you aren't going out?"
What was that phrase Logan had used just yesterday? Oh, yes. "I'd rather date a hissing cockroach."
He looked confused. "Then why...?"
"What, you think I should give all my ex-boyfriends the Duncan Kane treatment?" Never mind that that had pretty much been her method of dealing all school year. "Logan and I sometimes talk. He fainted in front of me, I took him to the hospital. Nothing more to it than that."
Of course he didn't believe her. Nothing more to it? Nothing more than turning into sobbing, nervous wreck by his hospital bed like some two-bit daytime soap actress. She could hear the Emmy moment now: "I'm sorry Logan, so sorry! I've loved you all this time, don't you know?"
Dear god, she needed some fucking sleep.
Her father plopped a jar of Ben & Jerry's on the table with two spoons.
"Chunky Monkey?"
Gotta love a man who knows when to change the subject.
She smiled at him. "It'll do."
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Kendall Casablancas, it must be said, was a woman of regular and orderly habits. Almost Victorian, if you think about it--which Veronica did, on the way to Seabreeze Gym for Aging Trophy Wives and Their Socialite Peers (as she liked to call it). Kendall as a Victorian? An image of almost perfect hilarity.
She winked at the boy behind the front desk as she went into the changing room. He just blushed and didn't ask for ID.
Inside, Kendall was riding an elliptical machine like it was a horse and she was escaping the barbarian horde.
Or like...Veronica rolled her eyes. "So that's what he sees in her."
She walked up behind Kendall, edging aside another woman who was very impatiently waiting for one of the elliptical machines to free up.
"I'm next, just so you know," the woman said pointedly, somehow managing to express disdain for Veronica's year-old sneakers and worn spandex in the same breath. "Her hour's almost up."
Veronica shrugged and then nonchalantly yanked Kendall's earbuds out.
Kendall gasped with such predictable outrage that Veronica had to smile. "What the--oh, it's you. What is it this time? More waxy ear problems?"
Veronica raised her eyebrows. "Different boyfriend. And not so much waxy ear problems as almost dying problems."
Kendall stared at her. "What are you talking about? Think you can give those back to me, now? The last five minutes burn the most fat."
"Logan's in the hospital," she said--loudly, because it made her sound more nonchalant. "I'm curious about who put him there."
Kendall's frantic pace slackened slightly. Veronica put the earbuds back in her hand.
"Meet me in the changing room in five minutes," she said.
Kendall found her sitting on one of the benches by the showers.
"This had better be good, Veronica. I've got to meet my trainer in six minutes."
Veronica laced her hands behind her head and regarded Kendall carefully. This would be important.
"So, Logan almost died last night. Antifreeze. No one knows how it happened."
"Why don't you ask him?"
"In a coma."
Kendall winced--slightly, but it was there. Feelings from the she-bitch? Who knew? "Antifreeze? That's not an accident."
Something about her voice when she said that--an undertone of calculating intelligence, like she had considered situations like this before--made Veronica's ears perk.
"No, it isn't. Which is why I'm talking to you. Eliminating possibilities."
"You think I poisoned him?"
The thought hadn't even occurred to her, actually, but she hid her surprise. "Not really, but that's not the possibility I'm eliminating at the moment."
Kendall paused and then seemed to realize something. "You think he...what would I know about that?"
"You've spent a lot of time with him, these past few months. Did he ever say anything to you? Did you ever get the impression he was thinking about it?"
Kendall laughed. "Veronica, don't overestimate. We weren't sharing deep thoughts. We aren't in love. It was just fucking."
"Even fuck-buddies talk."
"What would you know about it?"
Veronica couldn't really think of a response, so she just waited. Finally, Kendall sighed.
"Listen, there was nothing. Logan isn't big on the fuzzy talk either, you know. He seemed fine."
"Happy?"
"How would I know? Not suicidal, that's for sure."
Veronica leaned against the wall. Her temples were throbbing and it wasn't even four. "Had anything made him upset lately? And by upset, I mean angry, more brittle. Extra helpings of sarcasm."
Kendall's smile was tight and a little impressed. "Only time he got like that was after seeing you. And I haven't seen him lately. I think he thinks he's broken up with me."
"He thinks..."
Kendall stood and picked up her Gucci sports bag. "Guys like him always come back."
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Finding Dick took some legwork. He wasn't at home, according to Beaver/Cassidy, who didn't know where the jerk was and did he look like a babysitter? He wasn't at the beach--the waves were too small--but he was at an impromptu party of Luke's involving beer, violent playstation games and a few confused female exchange students. Not exactly Victorian, but Dick was pretty predictable.
Veronica dragged him out of the party literally by the ear--he was drunk enough to let her.
"That hurt, bitch," he said, once she had let go of him on the porch. His drunkenness made the curse sound almost like an endearment.
"I'll write you a note."
He peered up at her, hand on his red ear. "Hmm...do you want me Ronnie? Luke's parent's aren't home. We could use their room."
"As appealing as that offer is Dick...I just want you for your brains."
"Huh?"
"You know, my thoughts exactly. So, let's get to the point--has Logan been acting strange lately?"
Dick took a moment to ponder this. It looked like he had already had several hours of determined drinking behind him. Good thing she hadn't found him any later--he might have been incoherent. Well, more than usual.
"You mean, besides not showing up at school today and ditching this rad party"
"Yeah, besides that."
She knew that if she told Dick Logan was in the hospital, it would be all over the school by first period, and for a number of reasons she wanted to delay public knowledge of this as long as possible.
Dick giggled. "Well," he said, swaying, "he's not still hung up on you, if that's what you mean."
Veronica's whole body froze, but she knew Dick wouldn't notice. It was the peculiar stress of the last sentence that did it.
"So, who is he hung up on?"
Dick shrugged and chugged the rest of his beer. "Fuck if I know. Don't ask, don't tell, right? Only we're not gay. Probably some blonde skinny not-Veronica-Mars chick, if I know Logan. Unattainable. He loves that."
Veronica had no idea what to make of that. "So...has he been depressed lately?"
Dick snorted. "No fucking way. He's a party animal. Until today, anyway."
She rolled her eyes. "Drinking a lot?"
"Definitely. Hey, you want a beer?"
"No thanks. So, more than usual?"
He shrugged. "Dude likes to drink. Hey, Ronnie, what's with the twenty-questions? You two thinking of getting married or something?"
Now Veronica almost wished she'd taken the beer. "N-not really."
"Cause he'd come running if you did. You have that dude seriously pussy--" He mimed cracking a whip.
"I thought you just said he wasn't hung up--"
"Hey, I said I don't ask. Doesn't mean I'm blind." He levered himself up off the railing and walked over to her.
"So, can I go? Unless you want to boogie upstairs...?"
"Not in a million years...but thanks."
He shrugged. "If you see him, let him know he's missing a great party."
Veronica looked back inside. One of Luke's friends was lining up some coke on the glass coffee table, and the girls were eyeing it like they'd never seen so much pure powder in one place before. Who would score, who would make an ass of themselves, who would wake up the next morning and wish they remembered what the hell they did. And worse things...yeah, Veronica remembered these parties.
But she didn't feel a twinge when Luke led her out without even a perfunctory invitation. This was one part of her old life she would never miss.
--------------------------------------------
That evening, she poked listlessly at the manicotti her dad had picked up from Marco's, their favorite corner Italian.
"Oh, come on, don't tell me even manicotti can't cheer you up."
She looked across the table at him and attempted to smile. "Sorry. I'm just a little distracted today. Why don't you eat mine?"
Keith tried to look offended. "Who do I look like, Backup?"
"Oh, come on, you've been eying my plate for the last ten minutes."
"I have not! Okay...maybe a little."
She pushed her plate towards him. "Go ahead, eat it. I don't have much of an appetite."
Keith gave her his patented 'Daddy's worried' look, which was only slightly marred by his stuffed cheeks.
"Do you want to tell me about it, honey?" he said, after he had swallowed.
She sighed. "I don't think Logan did this to himself."
"That's good, right? That means he can stay on the transplant list."
"But I have no proof, and it's still possible, and if I'm right it means that someone else tried to kill him. You don't eat antifreeze in Southern California by accident, Dad."
Keith put down his fork, food demolished. "No, I guess you don't. He wasn't noticeably strange or depressed? You asked his friends?"
Friends? All whopping one of them. One whose entire set of shared interests were drinking, playstation and pot. And a fuck buddy. Fuck, when did this happen to us, Logan? She thought. We used to have friends who loved us. And then Lilly died and Duncan left and where are we now? At least I have Wallace and my Dad. You...
If she was going to be honest with herself, she realized, Lilly's death ruined all of their lives. But it ruined Logan's infinitely more.
--------------------------------------------
Veronica woke up early by dint of sheer willpower and drove to the hospital before school. Dr. Michaels wasn't there, but the receptionist paged the physician who was monitoring Logan's condition. He was a slender Asian man in his late forties who looked more than a little annoyed at being called to the waiting room.
"Yes, may I help you, miss?"
Veronica was suddenly nervous. This man didn't look like he would be nearly as sympathetic as Dr. Michaels. "I came to check on Logan Echolls' condition? I was the one who brought him into the hospital. Also, I have some information concerning some worries Dr. Michaels had about his placement on the transplant list. I'm...I'm positive he didn't try to kill himself. Someone did this to him."
The doctor raised his eyebrows. "That's an interesting thing to say. Do you have any idea who?"
"No, not yet. But I'll find out."
He smirked. "Well, we'll find out one way or another when we revive Mr. Echolls this afternoon. If he was poisoned, hopefully the young man himself will be able to tell us who did it."
Veronica glanced at her watch. "I have to be at school soon, but could I just come in and see him for a few minutes?"
The doctor hesitated but another, broader man she hadn't noticed behind him stepped forward and put a spidery hand on the doctor's shoulder.
"We appreciate your concern, but I'm afraid that won't be possible just now."
Veronica stared at him. He was tall--intimidatingly so. It seemed like he was nearly twice her size. His smile was Woody Goodman greasy, but with a bit of extra creepiness.
"My God," Veronica drawled, "do you and Lex Luthor have the same tailor? The resemblance is uncanny."
"Veronica Mars. I've heard of you, of course." He held out his hand, and after a few moments, awkwardness made her take it.
"It's not for sale," she said.
"What isn't, dear?"
"My soul." She deliberately extricated her hand and wiped it on her jeans. "You know, just wanted to get that out of the way. So, who the hell are you?"
"Ethan Lavoie, esquire."
"Fancy. Yet, relevant?"
His eyes narrowed and he smiled.
"I represent Aaron Echolls."
END Chapter Two
And hopefully, if you comment, Chapter Three won't take me quite as long (hint, hint)