She used ignore him when he walked past her at lunch, or in the hallway. She used to brush off his snide comments in class, after school and around town. She used to watch him with disgust, hatred, pity. She used to look at him and think there was no human being with less of a heart, or more worthless then Logan Echolls.
She wasn't wrong until he started doing drugs.
She first suspected something when he stopped walking past her at lunch and she never saw him in the hallways anymore. She next suspected something when he just sat there in class or plainly ignored her after school and around town. After that she stopped watching him with disgust, hatred and pity. Instead, she watched him with curiosity, wonderment, sympathy. She stopped thinking of him without a heart, she stopped thinking he was worthless.
Nobody else noticed, or maybe nobody else cared. His friends all did drugs anyway but not like Logan. They never came to school with bloodshot eyes and still high from the previous night. They never snorted so much coke and shot so much heroine they were out of it for a week. They did it for fun and games, Logan did it to numb his pain, to make him forget.
Veronica didn't know why she cared. Why was it when she saw him hand over a wad of cash to a dealer one day she wanted to knock some sense into Logan? Veronica didn't know why it bothered her that he was killing himself slowly. She shouldn't care that he barely showed up to school anymore, she shouldn't care that he was never at parties anymore. She just shouldn't care.
But she does. Of course she does.
So she goes to his house one day, telling her father that she has to take Logan his homework because he's sick. She knows her father doesn't buy her alibi but he doesn't ask so she doesn't come clean. She shows up at his house and rings the doorbell. Mr Echolls answers.
"He's in the pool house Veronica, although I doubt he wants to see you."
Yeah. She hates Mr Echolls just as much as he hates her. He never appealed to her in fact. He's just plain creepy and there's something about the way he looks at her that tells her to be careful around him. Either way, she wanders through the house, out the back and knocks three times on the pool house door.
She hears a muffled 'fuck off'. She knocks again. And again. And again. Until finally the door pulls open and Logan stands in front of her, his hair a mess, his eyes red, his face pale. She feels sorry for Logan. She feels sympathetic for Logan. She feels sad for Logan.
"Veronica Mars, to what do I owe the pleasure? I'm assuming you haven't come here just to say hi."
Although he doesn't want her to come inside she does anyway because right now she's not leaving until she can knock some sense into Logan. Or get him into rehab. Either way, she's not going until he swears off drugs.
He closes the door. The room is dark, all blinds are closed and there is only one solitary lamp on. Veronica is slightly frightened by the creepy darkness of the pool house or maybe she's frightened by this creepy, melodramatic Logan that stands before her.
"I-I-I came to give you your homework." She stutters. Afraid or nervous?
"Yes, well thank you. You can leave now."
She looks at him closely. She's inspecting him. This is a side to Logan she's often seen but never gotten past. It's his tough Logan, the Logan he projects to the world when something is wrong. This is his wall, where he wants no one to break through, no one to reach him.
"Actually, Logan I wanted to speak with you about something. It's kind of important."
He casually walks over to the bar over on the far side of the pool house and pours himself some whiskey. He's been doing that since he was 13. Veronica can still remember him back when he was 13 and 14. They'd all come back from somewhere and Logan would down a glass of whiskey and chase it with coke. Now, he just drinks the whiskey and chases it with another glass.
"I know Logan."
He acts dumb. Or maybe he's just that high that he doesn't get it straight away. It's hard to tell. She looks over to the desk by the window and sees an empty vile. It probably had heroine in it.
"I know about the drugs."
Logan laughs. Of course he laughs. It's a defence mechanism he acquired when Veronica, Lilly and Duncan first started noticing the marks on his back. They would ask and he would laugh it off. He'd deny it and they'd just shut up about it. Not because they believed him, never because they believed him. Just because it was better to leave it.
"So what? I indulge. Half of Neptune high, if not more do drugs."
"Logan it's more than that. You've been skipping school regularly, showing up high, missing parties that you'd usually attend. I wouldn't come to you if I didn't think this was serious."
She watches him as he pours another whiskey. That's when she notices the bruises on his arm where it's obvious he's been shooting heroine.
"So what? I've skipped school before. I'm sure I'm not the only kid to show up high to school and those parties? Maybe I'm over them. Maybe I'm sick of going to parties."
It saddens her to know that he's doing this to himself and doesn't care. It breaks her heart to watch him kill himself like this.
"Is this because of Lilly? I know it's been hard, Logan but I'm here for you."
"You're here for me? You? I wouldn't come to you with a problem if my life depended on it Veronica. You chose which side to play with when you chose your dad. I'm not your friend anymore."
"It doesn't matter who I chose or whether we're friends or not Logan. I care about you just as much as I ever did. I still care that you're shooting up heroine and snorting cocaine. I still care that you're locking yourself up for days without contact with the outside world."
"Fuck off already Veronica." He snorts.
She watches him line up 3 lines of cocaine on his bar. She watches him as he covers one nostril and snorts a line. She watches him as he throws his head back and sniffles back the coke. She watches as he does the second line and repeats his actions for the third. He doesn't seem to care that she's watching or at the fact that she clearly cares about what he's doing.
"You know, the best way to snort coke is off a whore's bare ass. Want to bend over for me V?" He smirks malevolently.
It hurts. It stings. It burns. It's like a knife slicing directly through her gut. Her brain tells her to leave, he doesn't want your help, so leave. Get out now before he calls you other things. But her heart tells her to stay. Stay, Veronica. Stay. Stay, so you can help him. He needs you.
But does he really?
If she left right now would he be okay? If she left right now would he hate her forever? That's when she realises, she has to stay. She can't bail on him because that's what everyone else has done to him. She is not everyone else, she is Veronica Mars. She gives people the benefit of the doubt when no one else will. She will not give up on him.
"I'll do no such thing Logan. I won't be your coke buddy. I'm going to get you through this."
He scoffs. He snorts. He laughs. All at her. No one ever wants to help him why should she be different? Everyone gives up on him in the end. She will too.
"Bend over, or get out." He states.
She decides she'll play it his way. She'll bend over. She'll let him snort that line of coke off her bare ass. But after he's done playing, she'll lay down the rules. She'll make him see that he's so much better than this, he's so much better than a drug addict.
Logan watches in fascination and complete shock as Veronica unzips her jeans and passes them down her creamy thighs until they're a pile of cloth on the floor. He watches as she looks at him with pity and then lets her underwear slide to the floor.
He thinks she's beautiful, though he'll never admit that to his friends. She's slender and petite, cute in a way. His heart stops a beat when she licks her lips and slowly, very, very, slowly bends over his mahogany desk where not more than 3 hours ago he filled a syringe with heroine and left the empty vile right there.
"Well?" She speaks.
She closes her eyes and sighs to herself. She is a little bit nervous about being half naked in front of Logan. He's seen a lot of girls naked, a lot of very beautiful, very skinny girls naked. She's not as pretty as them, or as tall or skinny. She doesn't want him turning his nose up at her. But she has to do this, she has to help him.
He takes three steps towards her and stops. He admires the perfect curve of her ass. He admires the way she so sexily bends over for him and doesn't seem the least bit phased about it at all. He takes another three steps forward and stops again. He's standing right in front of her ass.
She breathes heavily the moment she realises Logan is staring at her. She's not sure whether it's in disgust or want or whatever. But he's staring at her.
Carefully he lines up a line of coke on the milky skin of her ass. She almost shudders at the warmth of Logan's hands on her skin, or maybe it's the electricity that flies through her body at his touch. He snorts the line clean off her ass, Veronica bites her lip to keep from gasping.
She doesn't know why she's suddenly feeling so hot, or why her heart is racing. She can't pin point when she started feeling that warmth in the pit of her stomach or exactly when she told herself she wanted Logan to touch her places she'd never thought about him touching.
As she goes to move he grabs her hips with both his hands and steadies her exactly as she was.
"Don't move. I'm not done." He huskily whispers to her.
Veronica nods, words would be hard to find. She fears if she speaks she might tell him how much this is turning her on right now. So she is silent.
He traces the curve of her ass with his hand, over her hip, across her ass and down her thighs. He brushes his fingers along the inside of her thighs. She arches her back, she can't remember a time she felt this turned on or if she ever has at all.
Like that, he has a hard on. Watching Veronica arc her back and breathe like she is makes him hard. Yeah, it's not much but he's always thought of Veronica as innocent, sweet and pure. Even when he calls her a whore or a slut he never means it. She's Veronica.
He licks his lips like he's about to sample something delicious. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't. He teases her to no end, his hand constantly running up and down her thighs and so, so, so close to her dripping, hot cunt. He won't touch her though. Or at least he knows he shouldn't.
Logan knows that right now all she'd be to him is another dirty whore that he throws away like a used condom. Honestly, he doesn't want Veronica to be that to him, he doesn't want her to be anything to him. He doesn't hate her but he doesn't want to submit her to that part of him. The part where as soon as he cums it's over, he yells abusive words and throws the slut's clothes at them before she runs out. He's succeeded if she starts crying.
But what Logan knows and what Logan does are two different things. Logan knows he shouldn't do drugs. Yet he does. Logan knows fucking around with a different girl each night isn't the way to deal with his grief. Yet he still does it. Logan knows he shouldn't throw mean comments at Veronica and ridicule her the way he has. Yet he does that too.
Veronica's nails start to dig into the desk. The desk Logan has probably fucked several other girls over. She wants him so bad. She wants him to touch her and kiss her and please her in ways he only knows how. She wants him so bad she's willing to let herself give into the evil temptation that is Logan Echolls.
She breathes in heavily and suddenly gasps when she feels the brush of a finger along her slit. She didn't mean to. She bites her lip hard enough to make it bleed when he slides the tip of his finger, just the tip, into her awaiting pussy. She didn't mean to. She throws her head back and moans when she feels the force of fingers suddenly thrust inside her. She didn't mean to.
He watches her make these movements. He can tell she is holding back, he knows she's trying so hard not to enjoy this. But he also knows this is turning her on. Drug fucked, horny Logan turns her on. But drug fucked Logan isn't a nice lover, he's not gentle or kind, caring or sweet. He is rough and vicious, angry and forceful.
The room is suddenly at tropical island climate. Veronica can feel the sweat on her forehead and along her back.
Logan adds his third finger to her, she digs her nails further into the expensive desk. He doesn't mind, it'll be a bittersweet reminder of the night he fucked Veronica Mars.
He brings her close to her climax and then pulls his fingers out. She almost curses out loud. Instead she stays bent over and listens to the subtle sounds of pants being undone and underwear being pulled down. She waits for something, for anything. Her anything comes when she feels the head of his cock pushed against her pussy.
She wants to say no. She wants to say yes.
"I'm going to fuck you, Veronica Mars. I don't promise it to be sweet or gentle or anything remotely resembling anything you've imagined. I don't promise to make you cum or to put your pleasure above my own. So don't expect anything more than what this is. You're just a fuck to me." He tells her.
She's standing back up. She picks up her clothes. She carefully, quietly, quickly pulls her panties and jeans back on. She averts her eyes as she walks to his door. She half-smiles, half-frowns at him as she opens the door and leaves his pool house. Never looking back. Never wishing she'd stay. Well, at least in her mind she's doing all those things.
He pushes inside her. He's her first real time, considering her virginity was brutally stolen when she was raped. He feels the tightness, the warmth and the wetness. It's everything he's imagined it to be and yes, he's imagined it.
She cries out in pain but she doesn't expect him to stop or ask her if she's okay. She expects nothing from him. She stiffens as he viciously gropes her and takes her hips in his hands and clenches them with a death like grip. It hurts. She cries out again in pain, louder this time. He doesn't care. He keeps thrusting inside her.
Logan manages to fit all of him inside her. He pulls out and slams back in with such force her hips slam into the desk. Veronica squeals in pain. So he moves faster, more brutally then he had before. She can't enjoy it, it hurts too much for her. He enjoys it, he enjoys hearing her cry out like that. He enjoys watching her body stiffen and watching her jaw clench. He enjoys the pain it brings her.
He moves faster. He moves without rhythm, without passion. He's already close to his climax, his moans indicate this. He leans over and bites into her shoulder, softly at first then harder as he cums inside her. Veronica screams, not in pleasure but in pain. He draws blood and laps it up like it's not blood at all. He relishes the taste of her blood.
She lets him collapse on her for awhile and listens to him breathe heavily. He eventually gets up and pulls out and throws her clothes at her like he'd done to so many other girls before her.
"Get out. I'm done with you."
"I don't care."
"I don't care. Get out."
Veronica dresses, slowly. He watches her, he sees her pain, he sees her innermost thoughts, her battle with herself. He's broken her spirit. She thought she could help him, if she could just play his game afterwards he would see she cares. But he doesn't. He sees her fight to keep tears from straying.
It tears him up inside secretly.
"I'll see you at school, I guess."
She turns the door knob and opens the door. She hurts so much. She hurts because she tried to save him, she tried to help him and yet she couldn't keep her mind from wanting him. She should have said no. Instead she said yes.
"Oh Ronnie?" He questions.
She flicks her head around.
"It was real nice of you to come over here with my homework. But next time could you send someone a little…better. I don't want to take my chances with trash like you. You never know what diseases you lower class girls have."
Her teeth clench. Her fists bawl. Her eyes water. But she just nods and walks away.
Logan watches the only person willing to help him walk away. He hurt her. Now, he's all alone.
Just a little one shot. I haven't written Veronica Mars fics in ages. Like since We Are Epic. So I hope you all enjoy this.