Rise and Fall (Logan, Veronica, PG)
Title: Rise and Fall
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1030
Character(s): Logan, Veronica
Summary: There's a reason why Logan likes surfing.
Spoilers: If you've seen up to episode 2.01, you're good.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.
A/N: Remember in 304 when Keith asked Logan the draw to surfing. This sort of spawned from that.
It was like life, without conscience or consequence, rising up to destory itself with a roar so loud it created a deafening silence. It was this solitude, this moment to himself, that Logan relished. It was the only place where something was more uncontrollable than his own mangled life. And for that, he was grateful. But the waves were not kind. They were high and hard and pounded his body when he couldn't sustain his hold on them. That didn't stop him from chasing another. And another after that. As long as he could paddle and still stand firm, he was going to let this tormenter be his peace.
There were many places that Logan could go to think. But it was here that he chose for a lack of thinking. There was one goal here: stay on your board, ride the wave. He could put all of his concentration in that and forget about everything else out there. When he failed to do that, the wave would remind him of his purpose by barrelling into him and swallowing him in the darkness of its underbelly. When he'd finally surface, his resolve would return and he woud slide back on his board. He would give up the necessities of life if he could just stay out there, to share this dance of respect, power, and peace.
Now, the sun was setting and, like him, the waves grew tired. But he didn't paddle in. Unwilling to give up his fleeting moment of serenity, he simply sat on his board, rocking with the calming water. It wasn't lost on him, the fact that he chose to face the chaos that awaited him on shore rather than the beautiful sunset escaping behind him. It was never his way to view life in the color of rose, not when so much blinding red plagued him. No, he'd rather face disaster head on. Masocism was, after all, his best sport.
He knew it wasn't healthy to live his life this way. That much was painfully clear. But it was the only way he knew how to survive. When others face disaster and get through it, they try to tell themselves that the worst is over. Logan knows better. But that doesn't stop him from living. Doesn't stop him from trying to live the lies he tells others so they won't see how broken he really is. So he won't see how broken he really is.
He saw her car pull up without even realizing he was waiting for her. Once she got out, he fully expected her to stand on the edge of the shoreline, hands on her hips, and wave him in. But she surprised him when she merely sat in the warm sand and waited. A sad smile found its way to his sun-kissed face. She understood.
Face upturned towards the darkening sky, he let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It was another day over. Another day he made it through. He couldn't have imagined more horrible things happening in the span of one day. One painfully disasterous day. Twenty-four hours for everything to explode before him and send him spiralling. It wasn't everyday that you get accused of two different murders, neither of which you actually committed. And what he learned about his father... He shook his head as if to literally shake the thoughts out. He realized he had let his mind wander and didn't know how much time had actually passed since he last looked at the beach. She was still sitting there, patiently. He decided that now was the time to return to the world. To her.
When he forced his body from the crashing tides, he felt heavier. He briefly imagined his feet steadily sinking into the sand until it swallowed him whole, but a quiet voice saved him from his own destructive illusion.
"Good waves today?" Veronica asked him as she handed him his towel.
"Pretty good. It was quiet." He answered, his voice gravelly from swallowing the salty surf.
Veronica didn't respond, simply nodded. They'd both been pretty quiet the last few days. So much was still sinking into their systems that it was just better to let it do so fully. They'd enjoyed each other's company, trying to put everything that had happened in the last two months behind them. Logan was going to be attending summer school on Monday and days like this were going to become fewer. That was something he wasn't looking forward to. And the closer he got to the car, the more restless he became.
"You all right?"
He turned to face her and forced himself to smile. "I'm fine. Just tired." She seemed to accept this and it became quiet again. His mind was already starting to pick up speed and tried to focus back on the sound of the water. When just the sound wasn't helping, he closed his eyes and ignored the feel the sand between his toes and pretended he was back on the water. He could feel Veronica looking at him but she said nothing. When he opened his eyes again, her hand was on his arm. His eyes flitted over the soft, concerned features of her face against the orange glow of sundown and he finaly settled on giving her a genuine smile. Again, she seemed pacified by this and, giving his arm a final squeeze, dropped her hand.
Logan turned back towards the relaxing tide, squinting at the sliver a light the sun still brought to the horizon. He took some comfort in knowing that when he left this evening, tomorrow they would be waiting for him.
Waves. Nothing more than water rolling up and crashing back into itself, yet, there was nothing else like it. There was a freedom, even with the shore to stop it. It never really stops, though. The closer it came to its own destruction, the more powerful it became. Even it's death was beautiful. It's rebirth, however, utopia. It was, literally, a sea of hope. Just knowing that no matter what storm rolled through, they would rise again. And so would he.
End.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1030
Character(s): Logan, Veronica
Summary: There's a reason why Logan likes surfing.
Spoilers: If you've seen up to episode 2.01, you're good.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.
A/N: Remember in 304 when Keith asked Logan the draw to surfing. This sort of spawned from that.
It was like life, without conscience or consequence, rising up to destory itself with a roar so loud it created a deafening silence. It was this solitude, this moment to himself, that Logan relished. It was the only place where something was more uncontrollable than his own mangled life. And for that, he was grateful. But the waves were not kind. They were high and hard and pounded his body when he couldn't sustain his hold on them. That didn't stop him from chasing another. And another after that. As long as he could paddle and still stand firm, he was going to let this tormenter be his peace.
There were many places that Logan could go to think. But it was here that he chose for a lack of thinking. There was one goal here: stay on your board, ride the wave. He could put all of his concentration in that and forget about everything else out there. When he failed to do that, the wave would remind him of his purpose by barrelling into him and swallowing him in the darkness of its underbelly. When he'd finally surface, his resolve would return and he woud slide back on his board. He would give up the necessities of life if he could just stay out there, to share this dance of respect, power, and peace.
Now, the sun was setting and, like him, the waves grew tired. But he didn't paddle in. Unwilling to give up his fleeting moment of serenity, he simply sat on his board, rocking with the calming water. It wasn't lost on him, the fact that he chose to face the chaos that awaited him on shore rather than the beautiful sunset escaping behind him. It was never his way to view life in the color of rose, not when so much blinding red plagued him. No, he'd rather face disaster head on. Masocism was, after all, his best sport.
He knew it wasn't healthy to live his life this way. That much was painfully clear. But it was the only way he knew how to survive. When others face disaster and get through it, they try to tell themselves that the worst is over. Logan knows better. But that doesn't stop him from living. Doesn't stop him from trying to live the lies he tells others so they won't see how broken he really is. So he won't see how broken he really is.
He saw her car pull up without even realizing he was waiting for her. Once she got out, he fully expected her to stand on the edge of the shoreline, hands on her hips, and wave him in. But she surprised him when she merely sat in the warm sand and waited. A sad smile found its way to his sun-kissed face. She understood.
Face upturned towards the darkening sky, he let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It was another day over. Another day he made it through. He couldn't have imagined more horrible things happening in the span of one day. One painfully disasterous day. Twenty-four hours for everything to explode before him and send him spiralling. It wasn't everyday that you get accused of two different murders, neither of which you actually committed. And what he learned about his father... He shook his head as if to literally shake the thoughts out. He realized he had let his mind wander and didn't know how much time had actually passed since he last looked at the beach. She was still sitting there, patiently. He decided that now was the time to return to the world. To her.
When he forced his body from the crashing tides, he felt heavier. He briefly imagined his feet steadily sinking into the sand until it swallowed him whole, but a quiet voice saved him from his own destructive illusion.
"Good waves today?" Veronica asked him as she handed him his towel.
"Pretty good. It was quiet." He answered, his voice gravelly from swallowing the salty surf.
Veronica didn't respond, simply nodded. They'd both been pretty quiet the last few days. So much was still sinking into their systems that it was just better to let it do so fully. They'd enjoyed each other's company, trying to put everything that had happened in the last two months behind them. Logan was going to be attending summer school on Monday and days like this were going to become fewer. That was something he wasn't looking forward to. And the closer he got to the car, the more restless he became.
"You all right?"
He turned to face her and forced himself to smile. "I'm fine. Just tired." She seemed to accept this and it became quiet again. His mind was already starting to pick up speed and tried to focus back on the sound of the water. When just the sound wasn't helping, he closed his eyes and ignored the feel the sand between his toes and pretended he was back on the water. He could feel Veronica looking at him but she said nothing. When he opened his eyes again, her hand was on his arm. His eyes flitted over the soft, concerned features of her face against the orange glow of sundown and he finaly settled on giving her a genuine smile. Again, she seemed pacified by this and, giving his arm a final squeeze, dropped her hand.
Logan turned back towards the relaxing tide, squinting at the sliver a light the sun still brought to the horizon. He took some comfort in knowing that when he left this evening, tomorrow they would be waiting for him.
Waves. Nothing more than water rolling up and crashing back into itself, yet, there was nothing else like it. There was a freedom, even with the shore to stop it. It never really stops, though. The closer it came to its own destruction, the more powerful it became. Even it's death was beautiful. It's rebirth, however, utopia. It was, literally, a sea of hope. Just knowing that no matter what storm rolled through, they would rise again. And so would he.
End.