Worthy, PG-13

[aeneas_fic]

Title: Worthy
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: It’s Felix who gets Eli home.
Spoilers: Through Rashard and Wallace Go to White Castle
Pairings: Weevil/Felix if you squint
Disclaimer: Everything Veronica Mars belongs to Rob Thomas and all the wonderful people who make the show happen.
Notes: Many thanks to kurukami for a lightning fast beta. This

Comments

[soundingsea]

*sniffles* Oh, this is perfect. I'm tearing up thinking about Weevil's despair and dead-end view of his life. And it takes remembering that Felix cared to get him moving again. Lovely.

And Eli desperately wants to believe in love, believe that it matters, that it conquers, and that there will be fucking fireworks when he finally finds it again.

Aww. Weevil has more hope left than you'd expect, with what life's been handing him.

“You are to me,” his voice breaks, snaps under the pressure of pain and hallucination. “Jesus, Felix. You are to me.” There are tears in his eyes that have nothing to do with broken ribs or black eyes.

This fic, this line, is exactly what I wanted. Thank you so much; I feel like this could fit neatly into canon and give us more depth in how Weevil feels about his dead friend. Wonderful.

[bigsciencybrain]

Thanks! I'm so glad you liked it. I always thought that he and Felix made such a good team in a...Pinky and the Brain kinda way. :)

[bigsciencybrain]

Thanks! It was great fun to write.

[minim_calibre]

Wow.

This was excellent. Perfect Weevil voice, and it gave me chills.

[bigsciencybrain]

Thanks! I have to say that Weevil isn't the easiest voice to get right, so it's wonderful that you thought it sounded like him.

[kuromatic]

Ok this fic just gets better and better as you read it!

Loved:
He stumbles on a crack in the sidewalk barely wide enough to fit his pinky finger into, but in his state of mind, it feels like the Grand Canyon.

and:
Think you’ll regret it, man. Don’t never let a woman get under your skin like that. Told you a hundred times. That shit’s permanent and you’ll have to look at it forever once she’s left your sorry ass.

and this:
“Miss you, man,” he says softly.

and so very definitely this:
He doesn’t fight it when he feels someone’s arm wrap around his shoulders and lift him back to his feet - when did he fall? - and his legs clumsily manage to function. Fingers are gripping warm leather, smooth and supple from wear. He recognizes the placement of the buttons, the shape of the lapel, and the subtle scent of those damn clove cigarettes that Wanda got Felix hooked on. For the first time, he doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t.

“Felix?”

“I’ve got you, Eli, I’ve got you.”Great fic! I'm adding it to my memories. I'll be re-reading

[aeneas_fic]

I'm glad you liked it! :)