011 - VM: For The Restless
Title: For The Restless
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing/Characters: Veronica/Logan, mention of other characters
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: Set 4 years after graduation. Logan’s general POV.
Notes: 2336 words or so. For some reason I had this obsession with repeating phrases of a sentence over and over because it just felt like something Logan would think/do to stress his point. Although there isn’t much dialogue in the story, everything he thinks to himself is deliberate and meaningful. The title is borrowed from Tom McRae’s song, ‘For The Restless’. Lyrics are included within the story.
He flips through his hundreds of channels, without pausing to really see what’s on, just click, click, click. News, football, cartoons, porn, news, news. He takes another pull from his beer and stops on the entertainment news channel. It’s not on purpose, it just happens to be where he stops. The colours and shapes on the screen barely register as he gets up to grab his 4th beer of the morning. He kicks past the empty bottles, pizza boxes and chip bags on the floor. Fucking maid does nothing. He’s cursing the maid’s name when he opens his new bottle, only to remember that he fired her last week in a drunken stupor. He thinks he hears a familiar voice on the TV behind him but he doesn’t turn to look. He wants that face out of his head, he wants to forget her - he almost has.
She comes to me in dreams
Train wreck beauty queen
But I don’t remember her
Half sitting, half lying on the couch now, he hears the announcer say something about a cancelled fall wedding and broken hearts. Ah, young love. It never lasts. The screen flashes with images of people he used to know and he pretends to ignore it, chugging back the beer instead. He’s already downed it before the next commercial. It doesn’t matter that it’s only 11:30am, what matters is that he’s going to have to make another trip to the beer store before it closes today.
On a wall of white and blue
Wrote your name and thought of you
But you would not have known
The doorbell rings once, twice and he’s yelling the maid’s name again. He’s got short-term memory problems or something, but he finally gets up to answer the door. He doesn’t even check to see who it is, he knows it can only be paparazzi or solicitors at this time of day. He doesn’t care though - he always has fun fucking with them.
From a window of a car
A cigarette’s a fallen star
A dream within a trail of sparks
The door swings open and there she is. He almost wants to laugh but he’s somehow lost his breath. She looks exactly the same as the last time he saw her on TV. Her hair’s a bit longer than he remembered it, but everything else is still the same. She’s wearing a white t-shirt with the Eiffel Tower on it and she’s got her hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans. She looks like she’s about to say something and he moves to close the door again. He doesn’t want to talk to her - he likes to keep his grudges intact. Her left hand flies up, resting on the door to stop him and he sees the ring. It’s big, bright and glitters in the sun, mocking him.
Conversation turns to sleep
And I wait for you to speak
I’m waiting still
She takes one step into the house and he takes three steps back. She takes another, shutting the door behind her, and he steps back again. They continue like this for a while before she stops and lets out a sigh. She says his name softly. Logan. Her voice sounds foreign to his ears - tired and sad.
So for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
And for the faithless
Not the true believer
This song’s for you
The TV is still blaring in the background, and he makes no move to turn it down or shut it off. He shoves one hand into his pant pocket and leans against the back of the couch, watching her from the corner of his eye. She’s surveying the room, making note of all the garbage and misplaced items. Finally her eyes find his, and she gives him a look of pure pity. He wants to hate her right now - it’s all he can think of.
I keep my secrets well
Move on and never tell
Someday they’ll show
His mind flickers back to senior year when it all went downhill. They were together for about 3.9 seconds before she went running back to Duncan Kane, the love of her life. He still doesn’t really know what happened. One day she was making out with him in his car, and the next she was saying that she couldn’t be with him anymore because he wouldn’t let things get back to normal. She didn’t explicitly say it, but he knew she was afraid of him. Deep down, she had this fear that he was his father’s son. Maybe she was right, but he could have changed. He just needed her to stand by him, believe in him and lend him some of her strength.
You raised me to be cruel
You raised me like a bruise
I’m bleeding still
Even though Aaron was put away for life, Logan still finds himself thinking he’ll be waiting for him around the corner with his belt. The leather will be twisted around his hand - ready to lash out at any given moment. He doesn’t sleep well. Most nights he is kept up with the vision of his psychotic father dragging him out of bed and burning holes into his flesh.
Therapy has never helped. They all say the same thing, “Logan, you aren’t like him. The sooner you admit that to yourself, the sooner you can move towards a brighter future.” He wants to snort at the thought.
So for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
And for the faithless
Not the true believer
This song’s for you
He’s brought out of his flashback when he feels her hand rest softly on his arm. Her fingertips stroke the underside of his forearm lightly, which sends goose bumps shooting up his arm. He knows his mouth is probably agape as he stares down at her. It’s not his best look, but he’s not really trying to look good. He wishes he slammed the door in her face the second she got here. He wouldn’t be standing here now, wishing he could lower his head just a little bit further. Just a little.
She comes to me in dreams
Train wreck beauty queen
Now I remember her
“Duncan and I broke up,” she says suddenly. It’s such a simple statement, but he’s slightly confused for a moment. She continues, speaking as fast as possible so he doesn’t stop her. “It’s over. The truth is, it was a mistake. It was all a huge lie, and I let it go on and on. I kept telling myself I was being selfish for wanting more, but I finally realized it wasn’t enough.”
She’s twirling the engagement ring around her finger and it finally all falls into place like the last piece in the jigsaw puzzle of his life. Duncan. Veronica. Young love. Fall wedding. People he used to know. People who lost each other. Lost themselves.
And everything you love with break
You’re running out of things to make you
Feel alive, alive, alive, alive
He looks around the room and suddenly feels very sober. The disgusting disarray of his house hits him with a blow so hard, he has to close his eyes for a moment to gather himself. He feels utterly embarrassed in front of her, which is slightly ridiculous, considering she’s seen him at his worst over the years. And yet, the scattered beer, vodka, wine - you name it - bottles stare back at him as a shiny reminder of life after failure. The drinking used to be fun and exciting, but now it’s a boring habit he holds on to because it’s the only thing that stays the same in his life. It’s the only thing he can count on. It’s the only thing that makes him feel alive because any second he could drink too much and pass out and yet he continues to cheat death with each new bottle he opens.
So for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
“What happened to you?” she asks and this time when he turns to look at her, her eyes don’t stare back with pity, but instead with regret. It’s all my fault, they say to him. I chose the wrong one.
He honestly doesn’t know how to answer her without making her feel guilty - she already is. He doesn’t know how to say that he never forgot her. He doesn’t know how to say that he’s happy the wedding is cancelled. And it’s not the right time. It’s not nice to twist the knife, but he can’t stop himself. He wants her to feel his pain. He wants her to lay awake at night with the same images that haunt him. He wants her to understand what it’s like to have nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to, nothing to believe in.
“You left,” is all he can say. It’s the most he’s said this whole time, but it’s all he has to say. He can tell by the way her shoulders haunch over that she understands. And all the great conversationalists in the world couldn’t have said it better.
She takes one deep breath before she looks up at him and he can see the tears in her sky blue eyes. “I am so sorry.”
And for the faithless
Not the true believer
This song’s for you
There’s a split second between the moment he’s standing there, looking down at her, and the moment when their lips meet. It’s so soft and gentle, it’s like they’re barely touching. And yet, it’s so painful that he pulls back almost instantly. His eyes are still closed and he can’t bare to open them. He sucks in a breath when he feels her arms around his waist. She feels warm against his chest and he fights the urge to let his arms encircle her.
She feels so good next to him. He’d almost forgotten how her tiny frame fit so perfectly with his. Nostalgia overwhelms him and when she takes a breath, he moves away from her to the other end of the couch. Distance always kept his mind clear. Distance always healed old wounds. Distance always made it easier. When he looks back at her, she’s got her head slightly bent downwards, her bangs hiding her face from him.
“Can we start over?” she asks looking back up, and smiles slightly, like she knows he’ll say no, but she won’t give up that easily.
“I don’t know if we can.”
“I think we can. If you let me.”
“It’s too late.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He smirks slightly, reminiscing on the last time he heard her voice sound so firm and yet playful at the same time. “C’mon. We didn’t work the first time, what makes you think we can make it this time?”
She smiles and cocks her head slightly. “It’s not like you really have anything to lose,” she replies with a giggle.
He pretends to be offended by that comment, but it’s so true he laughs along with her. His broken life couldn’t be shattered anymore and he realizes that it’s been years since his house has heard laughter. Real laughter. Not the bitter laughter he so often heard himself make.
And for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
She takes a step in his direction and he holds his ground. She takes another, and another until they’re barely a foot apart. She rests her hands on his chest and he lets his hands float up to fit snugly around her hips. He lowers his head and he watches her eyes flutter closed, but before they kiss he presses their foreheads together like they used to.
“Promise me something,” he says and wonders why his voice has gotten so low.
“Sure.”
“Promise that if I start to piss you off, or I mess things up, you’ll stop me before it goes to far. And you have to tell me if something bothers you or I’m being a jackass. And-”
“Okay, I promise!” she cuts him off, and grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him down. “This is me telling you to shut up and kiss me already.”
It’s tentative at first, and he wonders if he’s forgotten the steps to this little dance of lips and tongues. She pushes herself closer to him and as he starts to deepen it more, it comes back to him in snippets.
The way her body slides along his. The little gasp that escapes her lips when he finds that spot under her ear.
She smiles into the kiss and everything else fades away. It may never be perfect between them. It may be hard. It may not last. But the way she tastes right now and the way he suddenly feels happier than he has in four years, it doesn’t matter.
He kisses her again and again and again, and then he remembers.
It’s for you
It’s for you
It’s for you
It’s just for you
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing/Characters: Veronica/Logan, mention of other characters
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: Set 4 years after graduation. Logan’s general POV.
Notes: 2336 words or so. For some reason I had this obsession with repeating phrases of a sentence over and over because it just felt like something Logan would think/do to stress his point. Although there isn’t much dialogue in the story, everything he thinks to himself is deliberate and meaningful. The title is borrowed from Tom McRae’s song, ‘For The Restless’. Lyrics are included within the story.
He flips through his hundreds of channels, without pausing to really see what’s on, just click, click, click. News, football, cartoons, porn, news, news. He takes another pull from his beer and stops on the entertainment news channel. It’s not on purpose, it just happens to be where he stops. The colours and shapes on the screen barely register as he gets up to grab his 4th beer of the morning. He kicks past the empty bottles, pizza boxes and chip bags on the floor. Fucking maid does nothing. He’s cursing the maid’s name when he opens his new bottle, only to remember that he fired her last week in a drunken stupor. He thinks he hears a familiar voice on the TV behind him but he doesn’t turn to look. He wants that face out of his head, he wants to forget her - he almost has.
She comes to me in dreams
Train wreck beauty queen
But I don’t remember her
Half sitting, half lying on the couch now, he hears the announcer say something about a cancelled fall wedding and broken hearts. Ah, young love. It never lasts. The screen flashes with images of people he used to know and he pretends to ignore it, chugging back the beer instead. He’s already downed it before the next commercial. It doesn’t matter that it’s only 11:30am, what matters is that he’s going to have to make another trip to the beer store before it closes today.
On a wall of white and blue
Wrote your name and thought of you
But you would not have known
The doorbell rings once, twice and he’s yelling the maid’s name again. He’s got short-term memory problems or something, but he finally gets up to answer the door. He doesn’t even check to see who it is, he knows it can only be paparazzi or solicitors at this time of day. He doesn’t care though - he always has fun fucking with them.
From a window of a car
A cigarette’s a fallen star
A dream within a trail of sparks
The door swings open and there she is. He almost wants to laugh but he’s somehow lost his breath. She looks exactly the same as the last time he saw her on TV. Her hair’s a bit longer than he remembered it, but everything else is still the same. She’s wearing a white t-shirt with the Eiffel Tower on it and she’s got her hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans. She looks like she’s about to say something and he moves to close the door again. He doesn’t want to talk to her - he likes to keep his grudges intact. Her left hand flies up, resting on the door to stop him and he sees the ring. It’s big, bright and glitters in the sun, mocking him.
Conversation turns to sleep
And I wait for you to speak
I’m waiting still
She takes one step into the house and he takes three steps back. She takes another, shutting the door behind her, and he steps back again. They continue like this for a while before she stops and lets out a sigh. She says his name softly. Logan. Her voice sounds foreign to his ears - tired and sad.
So for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
And for the faithless
Not the true believer
This song’s for you
The TV is still blaring in the background, and he makes no move to turn it down or shut it off. He shoves one hand into his pant pocket and leans against the back of the couch, watching her from the corner of his eye. She’s surveying the room, making note of all the garbage and misplaced items. Finally her eyes find his, and she gives him a look of pure pity. He wants to hate her right now - it’s all he can think of.
I keep my secrets well
Move on and never tell
Someday they’ll show
His mind flickers back to senior year when it all went downhill. They were together for about 3.9 seconds before she went running back to Duncan Kane, the love of her life. He still doesn’t really know what happened. One day she was making out with him in his car, and the next she was saying that she couldn’t be with him anymore because he wouldn’t let things get back to normal. She didn’t explicitly say it, but he knew she was afraid of him. Deep down, she had this fear that he was his father’s son. Maybe she was right, but he could have changed. He just needed her to stand by him, believe in him and lend him some of her strength.
You raised me to be cruel
You raised me like a bruise
I’m bleeding still
Even though Aaron was put away for life, Logan still finds himself thinking he’ll be waiting for him around the corner with his belt. The leather will be twisted around his hand - ready to lash out at any given moment. He doesn’t sleep well. Most nights he is kept up with the vision of his psychotic father dragging him out of bed and burning holes into his flesh.
Therapy has never helped. They all say the same thing, “Logan, you aren’t like him. The sooner you admit that to yourself, the sooner you can move towards a brighter future.” He wants to snort at the thought.
So for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
And for the faithless
Not the true believer
This song’s for you
He’s brought out of his flashback when he feels her hand rest softly on his arm. Her fingertips stroke the underside of his forearm lightly, which sends goose bumps shooting up his arm. He knows his mouth is probably agape as he stares down at her. It’s not his best look, but he’s not really trying to look good. He wishes he slammed the door in her face the second she got here. He wouldn’t be standing here now, wishing he could lower his head just a little bit further. Just a little.
She comes to me in dreams
Train wreck beauty queen
Now I remember her
“Duncan and I broke up,” she says suddenly. It’s such a simple statement, but he’s slightly confused for a moment. She continues, speaking as fast as possible so he doesn’t stop her. “It’s over. The truth is, it was a mistake. It was all a huge lie, and I let it go on and on. I kept telling myself I was being selfish for wanting more, but I finally realized it wasn’t enough.”
She’s twirling the engagement ring around her finger and it finally all falls into place like the last piece in the jigsaw puzzle of his life. Duncan. Veronica. Young love. Fall wedding. People he used to know. People who lost each other. Lost themselves.
And everything you love with break
You’re running out of things to make you
Feel alive, alive, alive, alive
He looks around the room and suddenly feels very sober. The disgusting disarray of his house hits him with a blow so hard, he has to close his eyes for a moment to gather himself. He feels utterly embarrassed in front of her, which is slightly ridiculous, considering she’s seen him at his worst over the years. And yet, the scattered beer, vodka, wine - you name it - bottles stare back at him as a shiny reminder of life after failure. The drinking used to be fun and exciting, but now it’s a boring habit he holds on to because it’s the only thing that stays the same in his life. It’s the only thing he can count on. It’s the only thing that makes him feel alive because any second he could drink too much and pass out and yet he continues to cheat death with each new bottle he opens.
So for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
“What happened to you?” she asks and this time when he turns to look at her, her eyes don’t stare back with pity, but instead with regret. It’s all my fault, they say to him. I chose the wrong one.
He honestly doesn’t know how to answer her without making her feel guilty - she already is. He doesn’t know how to say that he never forgot her. He doesn’t know how to say that he’s happy the wedding is cancelled. And it’s not the right time. It’s not nice to twist the knife, but he can’t stop himself. He wants her to feel his pain. He wants her to lay awake at night with the same images that haunt him. He wants her to understand what it’s like to have nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to, nothing to believe in.
“You left,” is all he can say. It’s the most he’s said this whole time, but it’s all he has to say. He can tell by the way her shoulders haunch over that she understands. And all the great conversationalists in the world couldn’t have said it better.
She takes one deep breath before she looks up at him and he can see the tears in her sky blue eyes. “I am so sorry.”
And for the faithless
Not the true believer
This song’s for you
There’s a split second between the moment he’s standing there, looking down at her, and the moment when their lips meet. It’s so soft and gentle, it’s like they’re barely touching. And yet, it’s so painful that he pulls back almost instantly. His eyes are still closed and he can’t bare to open them. He sucks in a breath when he feels her arms around his waist. She feels warm against his chest and he fights the urge to let his arms encircle her.
She feels so good next to him. He’d almost forgotten how her tiny frame fit so perfectly with his. Nostalgia overwhelms him and when she takes a breath, he moves away from her to the other end of the couch. Distance always kept his mind clear. Distance always healed old wounds. Distance always made it easier. When he looks back at her, she’s got her head slightly bent downwards, her bangs hiding her face from him.
“Can we start over?” she asks looking back up, and smiles slightly, like she knows he’ll say no, but she won’t give up that easily.
“I don’t know if we can.”
“I think we can. If you let me.”
“It’s too late.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He smirks slightly, reminiscing on the last time he heard her voice sound so firm and yet playful at the same time. “C’mon. We didn’t work the first time, what makes you think we can make it this time?”
She smiles and cocks her head slightly. “It’s not like you really have anything to lose,” she replies with a giggle.
He pretends to be offended by that comment, but it’s so true he laughs along with her. His broken life couldn’t be shattered anymore and he realizes that it’s been years since his house has heard laughter. Real laughter. Not the bitter laughter he so often heard himself make.
And for the restless
Not the peaceful sleeper
This song’s for you
She takes a step in his direction and he holds his ground. She takes another, and another until they’re barely a foot apart. She rests her hands on his chest and he lets his hands float up to fit snugly around her hips. He lowers his head and he watches her eyes flutter closed, but before they kiss he presses their foreheads together like they used to.
“Promise me something,” he says and wonders why his voice has gotten so low.
“Sure.”
“Promise that if I start to piss you off, or I mess things up, you’ll stop me before it goes to far. And you have to tell me if something bothers you or I’m being a jackass. And-”
“Okay, I promise!” she cuts him off, and grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him down. “This is me telling you to shut up and kiss me already.”
It’s tentative at first, and he wonders if he’s forgotten the steps to this little dance of lips and tongues. She pushes herself closer to him and as he starts to deepen it more, it comes back to him in snippets.
The way her body slides along his. The little gasp that escapes her lips when he finds that spot under her ear.
She smiles into the kiss and everything else fades away. It may never be perfect between them. It may be hard. It may not last. But the way she tastes right now and the way he suddenly feels happier than he has in four years, it doesn’t matter.
He kisses her again and again and again, and then he remembers.
It’s for you
It’s for you
It’s for you
It’s just for you