Hearts Of Lions and Metal Men

90909

When she was 8, Mandi got burned. Your father pushed her towards the fireplace, and she stumbled and fell in, just enough to get 3rd degree burns on her little knee. You told the doctors you were chasing her and she fell. Your father smiled proudly at you as he told them how you called him immediately, and on the way home you both got ice-cream. But Mandi was in so much pain, and her wound had to be debrieded every morning, a task your father couldn't be bothered to learn, so it fell to you.

Three months later, you were still obsessing over fire, and purposely stuck your arm on the furnace, holding it there until your burn was as bad as your sister's had been. You don't remember the lie your father told the doctors this time, but you remembered the pain of the debridement. Your father learned it this time, because he said he wouldn't trust 'that girl' with your life.

You hated him, but took your punishment without complaint. But it was the first time in your short life you could remember him being right about something.

As he left your room after the first session, he turned back to you.

"It was stupid of you to try to be a martyr."

90909

It goes like this. Veronica wakes up, and starts to cry immediately, because she already knows what's coming. You've given her a dose of pain medication two hours ago, to give it time to take effect, but by now she always wakes up before you start anyway. She tries to squirm away instinctively, screaming in pain even before you touch her.

Logan has learned to lay beside her, his upper body on top of hers, his legs pinning hers to the bed while you unwrap the saline dressings from around her shredded feet. With the dressing comes the dead skin, and as it pulls away from her body, it carries some of the healthy skin with it. This causes her the most pain.

You know. You remember.

You try to be as gentle as possible, and as the days pass, you've gotten better at it, and you can tell it doesn't hurt as much as it did when you first started. But you're sure she'll be relieved to know that after this, you only have to use the saline dressings twice a week. Other than that, you'll be wrapping her wounds in lotion and soft, dry gauze.

By the time you are done, and have examined her feet for infection, and applied the lotion and rewrapped them, she has worn herself out sobbing and pleading with you to stop, and your heart breaks a little, so you gently rub her calves; something you'd discovered early on calmed her and helped relieve the pain and jitters that came with it.

When she has stopped sobbing, you place a half-dose of pain medicine on the nightstand, along with a glass of water, leaving Logan to hold her and comfort her until she falls asleep.

90909

For months after you called Veronica's rape a bluff, you were jumpy and nervous, constantly looking over your shoulder for Keith's gun in your face.

Then, when nothing happened, you were overcome with confusion and something like relief. You even let yourself think that maybe Keith knew about the Fitzpatrick's threat.

You were so naïve. So stupid.

So innocent.

It wasn't long after you let your guard down that you realized the truth. Veronica just hadn't told her father. You wanted to believe it had something to do with the sibling-like camaraderie you'd developed, but even you weren't stupid enough to believe that sort of superficial relationship could transcend the way you betrayed her.

It took you another four months to realize what this meant.

With all the emotional torture, all the flat tires, all the jeers from Logan and his crowd… all the names they called her, all the abuse… they even fucking raped her…

But the person who managed to break her?

Was you.

90909

When you take your turn keeping her company, you're not sure what you expect, but you don't really expect her to be happy to see you. She's been awkward and unsure of herself in a painful way ever since you interviewed her back at the Neptune Grande, and you really wish you could say something to soothe her, but the truth is, you're not even sure what's going on between the two of you. This isn't the easy relationship of sister and brother you'd had with her when she was a child; you've been the demon under her bed for far too long to just settle back into that, and you've both lost far too much. You're not the same people you were four years ago.

You're not the same people you were four weeks ago, and honestly, you're pretty sure with recent events, you're not even the same people you were four days ago. The change in you is more subtle, something you've been working on for months, at least. The change in Veronica is much more pronounced, definitely more obvious to those who surround her.

And what a sickening change it is, too. Whereas you are changing, morphing into something more, something infinitely better, Veronica's metamorphosis reminds you of a butterfly crawling back into its cocoon, rending and tearing at its own wings in attempt to fit into the place where it was once warm and safe.

She reminds you of the worst version of the little girl you used to read bedtime stories to, the one who got the worst of every world thrown at her a thousand-fold, and you only want to hold her and prove to her that it doesn't have to be this way; that she can be happy again, that people do love her. But you can't. You're not allowed to do that anymore, not when you're the one that hammered in the first real nail, the one to kiss her cheek to mark her for her enemies.

So when she can't seem to trust you at all, you don't blame her.

But you will spend your life making it up to her, if you can.

90909

Most mornings, you walked Mandi to school. You were 15, and she was 11, and you were both beyond the age where it was cool to be seen with your siblings. But you didn't care, because the other option was to let your father take her, and that usually meant her walking alone.

You didn't live in a bad neighborhood, but there were enough druggies and pimps between your house and the middle school for you to refuse to consider this.

But that morning, Mandi was sick. Usually, you tried to stay and take care of her when she felt ill, but that day, you had a test – one you'd been studying for all week. So Mandi told you to go. Your father even seemed genuine in his care that morning, towards the sick little girl.

It should have been sweet.

It made you nervous.

And all you could think, eight hours later, staring down at your sister's lifeless body beside the stairs, was that you should have known better.

You had known better. You'd just been too selfish to listen to the niggling voice in the back of your mind.

90909

When you hear Logan calling Veronica's name frantically, your heart stops, and for several minutes, you think she's gotten swept over the edge. Then you find her, curled up behind the cabin wall, in a space so tiny only she would be able to fit, and you call Logan. It's his boat. He'd better know what the hell to do.

For two whole minutes – the longest two of your life – you try to soothe her with your words, but she is inconsolable. You think she might not even know she is crying.

But then Logan is there, and he manages to squeeze in next to her, and gives her some pain pills, and she makes it out.

By the end of the trip, you've taken care of her broken little body so often that she just can't hold her grudge anymore.

She even manages to forgive you for beating her at Clue, and if that's not a sign, you don't know what is.

90909

You dreamed of walking Mandi down the aisle. After you found out that your father wasn't fond of her, you and she made a pact that you'd always be there to fulfill the roles he left empty in her life.

Her first love was Donald Duck, and you barely managed to hold in your laughter when she told you she'd marry him one day.

You didn't have any trouble holding it in, when, years later, little Veronica Mars informed you that one day she'd get married to Donald Duck, or at least to Kenny Houseman, that kid from her school (personally, you thought the cartoon duck had better taste).

90909

5 years later

90909

The day she asks you to give her away, you're certain you locked your door. And this confuses you, when you get back from lunch to Veronica Mars sitting in your living room.

You'd tried to pick those locks. And failed. It just isn't fair that she's this good at this stuff.

"How did you get in here?" you ask, dumbfounded.

She only smirks.

"Magic," she says, simply.

Then, after a moment to enjoy your look of confusion, she shrugs and adds, "also, the door was unlocked."

You smile at her and shake your head. "So, what did you come in here for, Mars?"

She's suddenly shy, looking anywhere but you, and biting her lower lip. But the most disturbing thing is that she looks ready to cry.

"Hey," you say, trying to shake her out of it, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I just… I needed to ask a favor, and I didn't think it would be this hard…"

"Take your time, Veronica."

"I need… Logan proposed, last night… as I'm sure you know."

You nod. The boy had asked you ahead of time, since you'd become something of a father figure – wait… of course.

"And you were wondering if I would walk you down the aisle?" you supply, not making her say it. The reminder that her father is gone is probably too much for her.

She nods at you, wiping her still streaming eyes, and then she's in your arms.

You hold her close and whisper to her "I'd be honored, Veronica. And honey? Your father would be so proud of you, of who you are now."

She wipes her eyes again, and looks up at you.

"Really?" and there's so much hope in her voice that you mentally curse yourself for not telling her this much more often.

"Definitely. You know, he used to talk about who you'd be some day. About how you'd probably grow up and glare some poor boy into submission, and then he'd have to give you away…"

You spend the rest of the afternoon with her, telling stories of times long past.

Of the man who made both of you who you'd become.