Categories > TV > Veronica Mars

In the Dark

by starCrossed 2 reviews

Logan ruminates after a run in with his father. S1 spoilers.

Category: Veronica Mars - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Characters: Logan Echolls - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2006-10-10 - Updated: 2006-10-11 - 584 words - Complete


He laid there on his stomach on the king size mattress in the pool house, just studying the minute fissures in the wall where it met with the baseboards. It was sort of sad the way the expensive home was already crumbling around their ears. It looked quite spectacular to most people in the neighborhood, even to the equally wealthy. But, since Logan knew where to look, he could see the subtle erosion around him.

The mattress was just big enough to support his six foot frame if he laid diagonally across it. The white cotton comforter was soft on the narrow strip of abdomen that was exposed when he laid gingerly across it. Of course, his father insisted that the linens be changed on a weekly basis. So, their frequent tumble in the wash had made them pliable. However, even they weren't soft enough for him to roll over onto his back.

The moonlight spilled through the French doors, occasionally disappearing as a cloud drifted by. Rain would sound nice, Logan thought idly. He liked it when the weather matched his mood. It was simply terrible to be in a foul mood when the sun shone or to be giddy during a dull grey shower. Not that he had much reason to be giddy.

He heard his phone buzz from where he'd dropped it on the floor. It was simply too much of a bother to answer. But, what about my adoring fans? Can't leave them out of touch, can I? came another thought. It sounded peculiarly like the voice he used to bait his father. So, gently, he eased back onto his knees on the bed. He'd learned long ago how to hold his torso so that fresh wounds wouldn't reopen. Slowly, he maneuvered himself to the floor. Sitting there, facing the double doors and the moonlit wash of tile leading to the pool, gingerly holding himself away from the bed, he picked up the phone.

The display read, simply, 'Mars.' And, that could be one of two people, but since he rarely had occasion to talk to the former Sheriff, it could mean only one thing. Damnably annoying Veronica. It vibrated once more against his palm before the voicemail picked up. What was the quote of the day? Logan asked silently, trying to remember back to this morning. / Ah yes /. "There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest. Elie Wiesel," he said aloud, his tone mocking. "I must be precognitive today," he finished dryly.

His phone burred once more and flashed red to indicate that he had a message waiting in his inbox. He stared at the device for a beat before pressing the button to take him to voicemail.

"Logan, it's Veronica. Call me back."

"Brevity is the soul of wit. William Shakespeare," Logan said into the darkness as he deleted the message with a keystroke. He stared at the ground outside the glass doors and grinned as a big raindrop spattered against one of those Spanish tiles.

He scrolled through his phone book and landed once more on Mars. As the rain began to really come down, he pressed 'Send.'


AN: Since someone asked, this took place during season one after Logan had a run-in with Aaron, roughly around 'You Think You Know Somebody.' I continued it into a longer fic; the full version is on my LJ and available upon request.
Sign up to rate and review this story