Hearts, Laws & Promises

Whispers (cont'd)

2008-05-23T02:18:10Z

The final part to the 'series'. This was finished after a massive weekend of wathcing seasons 1 & 2 trying to save my soul after the show's cancellation. Despite disappointment with the last season, I was a diehard fan 'till the end. Tears were shed during the writing process, and I'm pretty sure my parents thought I was trying to vent frustration and heartache out over a breakup of some sort. In a way, they were right. The CW and Rob Thomas had broken my heart. When I posted these on FanFiction.net, I was greeted for about 2 weeks with overwhelming accusations of tears and closure. It was a fantastic boost of confidence to my creative process and I hold this piece in great regard.

Title:             Whispers Part II
Author:        BackupLover
Fandom:      Veronica Mars
Rating:         T
Summary: The woman who started it all regards the sorrow around her.

The first dead blonde girl watched helplessly as the men from her best friend’s life mourned their loss. She had been told expressly that she was not allowed to go see Veronica, not until the girl had worked through her own issues with death. She’s surprised that you can be angry in Heaven.

What happened to her friend was worse than when she died, she decided. She left behind a swan song of hidden tapes and dozens of lovers. She had been found by her brother, not some rent-a-cop going up for a smoke. Her own death made her infamous; this shoved the girl into a fame she never wanted. Leaving behind so much potential and possibility.

That list was pure Veronica Mars. She wishes that she had thought of writing out people that would be barred from her final rest. It gave a sense of exclusivity to the event, especially when the people were told that they had been rejected by a dead girl. Madison’s eyes had bugged out when Dick had peevishly told her the news that he would be attending the funeral solo, on request from the honoree. The deputy merely nodded with darkened eyes, understanding the dead girl’s reasons. Three men decided the rest of it, not wanting to offend anyone- alive or dead.

Since she’s been forbidden to help her friend in need, she does the next best thing. It’s something she hasn’t done in a while- spy on people. She will attend this funeral; the superior powers can’t banish her for loving someone- besides, she’d just get kicked out of hell. When her hand was on the handle of her own door, she was informed that Veronica would not be able to see her, and she would not see her. Not until she came to grips with her own death. In a rare show of sadness, she had clenched her jaw before replying.

She’d never forgive me if I left her alone.

I will find out what happened.

He grieved for her in a way that her own father never did. Understandable, since the two of them were so close. She never saw Jake fall to the ground in distress, he had simply gone to the office and called Clarence for damage control. This is true sorrow, and she pities the fact that he’s forced to feel.

She disagrees with him when he blames himself. He had nothing to do with what happened, done nothing wrong. The way his daughter turned out was because she wanted to be stronger. To become the girl she had the potential to be.

But it didn’t matter how she had become the person she was, she simply became it. The girl that she knew was hiding inside. One that would win over the men she met in a way that no one could forget. Somehow making them fall in love with her over tire irons, flagpoles, copied keys and hidden microphones. But he was the one that had loved her from the beginning, the one that never stopped and never would. Not able to bring herself to hug the man who looked for her killer, she satisfied the silence with a promise.

I’ll take care of her now.

I love you.

He grieved for her more than he had when his first love died. But her friend had given him more than she ever had. Loved him more than she ever could. The way he had deserved to be. She knows in her heart that had she lived, he would have hated her.

Despite their worries that she would be angry, she had come to accept the two of them as a couple. She had known that he would never be her everlasting love. It was shocking, but she never felt that it was a betrayal. Simply two broken souls who could somehow heal each other. He treated her with more reverence than he had ever showed her. She was his chance at puppy love and more, now he completed the picture with a carnival prize.

But here he was, broken once again. Her dying had reinforced his belief that he didn’t deserve happiness. And that anyone he was happy with would be hurt. She sincerely hopes that he is able to get past it. With a ghostly stroke, she brushes her lips to his tearstained cheek.

You know, she loved you back.

You’re a marshmallow, BFF.

He grieved in the manner she had seen once before. The devastating loss of the friend one expected to always be there. Although she had never met him personally, he was someone that she had grown to appreciate.

He had saved her best friend from two years of living death. He had done what she had wanted to do, and forced her out of the shell she had made. Brought a smile to a face that had too long been icy. For a while she had feared that the girl was turning into Celeste- cold and calculating, with no actual feelings.

She doesn’t deny that she, like her friend, was apprehensive about him at first. This new person, trying to replace the fabulous girl that had become a legend. But when he started to go along with her favors, she was amused the fact that her girl had found her own sidekick. It made sense, she no longer stood in obscurity. The baking supplies confuse her, but she had her own private jokes with her best friend and can relate to the gesture. With a nod of approval, she is tempted to shake the boy’s hand.

Thank you for getting her to live.

There will never be another one like you.

He grieved for her secretly. Knowing that it would be considered inappropriate to shed tears for a female student. The favorite troublemaker that had bested him so many times. The blonde pixie who ran the school without an official title. She wishes he had given her that parking space.

The surprise she had when he pulled one over on her was astounding. When he had used her skills and curiosity to his own advantage. She had actually whooped with mirth when she saw him pull out the new nameplate. A new respect was given to the man she had thought of as only a fussy administrator. She wonders what he had been like in his own high school years. She thinks she would have liked him, especially since he was contemplating leaving a set of master keys lying around.

She had watched him turn a blind eye to many of her own actions, but she knew it was because of the name and the power associated with it. He had turned a blind eye to her out of fondness. It was partly amusement, but also simple appreciation that she solved his problems and said the things he wished he could. He still couldn’t say what he wanted to, but she hears it all the same. Nodding, she agrees.

No one will even come close.

I loved you like a daughter.

He grieved for her guiltily, but she knew that he was devastated. She’s the second daughter that died, the third child to leave him. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t his blood running through those veins- she had been his daughter, although estranged.

She laughed when he admitted that he had been proud of her. She wonders how long it will take him to admit he feared her. She had the drive that both of his ‘real’ children lacked, and it was something that had been turned his way on more than one occasion. He knew in his heart that had she wanted to, she could have destroyed him.

It still baffled her that he could have stayed with Celeste. The woman who had made his ‘other’ daughter’s life hell whenever she saw her. He didn’t love her, and now he had no children to hurt by a divorce. Pushing the thought aside, she had glared when he left her bracelet. Not everything about her best friend led back to her poolside murder. It was bad enough that Keith had left the bronze flower. Shaking her head angrily at his whispered comment, she snapped back in the way she had while alive.

Then you should have treated her like one.

Veronica Mars is smarter than me.

He grieved for her unacceptably. While she was a bitch while alive, he had exhibited a side of cruelty that she saw as unforgivable. When she saw him come up through the cemetery, she wished for a second she could get into his head like she had the others. It’s been a while since she has shown vengeance.

It didn’t matter that she was shown a sliver of hidden depth the night he released her three blocks from the Mannings. Simple walk-outs would never make up for his actions. Especially since he had never apologized and continued to treat her like trash. Ghostly spit was hurled at him when he thought of her best friend with lust.

What he had done was deplorable. Had she been alive, she would have had that badge he wore shoved up his ass. Veronica had every right to go public with what he said, the way he mocked her while he sat on his ass with a grin. But she knew on some level that her friend could not hate this man. Walking up to him, she stared into his eyes with rage only the dead are familiar with, ignoring the rare show of genuine emotion that shone in them.

I’ll hate you for her.

You were someone I could have really been with.

He grieved for her like a soldier. Like it wasn’t a girl that had died, but a comrade. She can’t help but sigh when he thinks that it was his duty to protect them both. There are some women who don’t want protection. They were the ones he fell in love with.

She knew he never thought of her until after her death. He considered her to be an 09er, despite their similar background. Even when she had told him to be nice to her friend, he treated her with indifference. Then she had broken his heart, so it didn’t really matter. As much as she wants to, she knows she never loved him. He had been her boy from the wrong side of the tracks, nothing more. She felt guilty when he continued to think of her as angelic.

She remembers the day that he finally noticed her. Even when she had cut the hair, he still felt that she was merely a girl mourning her former friends. He never expected her to snap back in the way she herself had done. Hadn’t ever comprehended there was vixen hiding behind the blonde hair. She wonders why he was surprised, but grew to love the way they helped each other.

She understands the gift in a way that neither of them did. He had left flowers for her, pronouncing everlasting love. The jacket states she was his equal. It’s a pity he wanted her to be more. With a saccharine smile, she repeats the words she had told him once before.

You’ll find someone eventually, lover.

I always loved you.

He grieved for her alone. It’s not surprising, that’s all his life is now. She wonders if she’s the first one to realize that now no one knows where he is. Sure, there’s that thing that he named after her in memory- whose idea was that, likening a girl like herself to childhood innocence- but his daughter has no memory of the town she had been saved from.

The two of them getting back together had infuriated her. Who goes back to the high school boyfriend who broke your heart? Had she been there, it would never have happened. She would have told Veronica that a fortune cookie was just a way to avoid voicing his feelings. Backing out of a potentially regretful situation, walking away so as not to see her reaction.

He hadn’t loved her, the real her. The ex-boyfriend they both shared was the only one who noticed the change and truly appreciated it. Her brother couldn’t move past the dream she had come to represent to him. Full of innocence and promise, instead of the passion and determination she had radiated. Her hand slides over his, the action softening her message as they both behold the floating photograph.

She wasn’t yours to love.

Her funeral is nothing like the one that had been planned for her. It’s private and meaningful, while hers was a circus. The large church had been filled with reporters, classmates, and past partners- but there had only been three people who really knew her. The group of grieving people at this ceremony is filled with personal memories and honest loss. She finds it slightly bittersweet that the sidekick is more beloved.

Red satin had proved to be a good description of the person she had become. Leather would also have been acceptable; her life had become surrounded by death but she still looked hot. Like everyone else, she had found herself proud of her best friend- although some of her decisions were crazy.

It takes three months for the girl to quietly finish her earthly walks. She was able to observe her from above, but each time she went down to find her friend; she was told once again they couldn’t see each other. So all she could do was wait until she was ready to open the door. Daily she sat by the other end, sometimes with Meg or Lynn. They were all prepared to comfort the girl that had fought for them.

When her door started to glow, she knew the time had come. Her friend was accepting death, and the mourning that went along with it. After long moments passed without a body coming through, she called out words of encouragement to the friend she missed so dearly.

Come on, Veronica Mars. It’s my turn to help you.

Whispers (cont'd)

2008-05-23T02:05:40Z

After the response from my best friend when she read the first part, I made a sequel to the first part of Whispers. I felt that Veronica herself would respond to the feelings of those that she felt had been abandoned, and would be far too stubborn to leave Earth until she had finished everything she considered unfinished. So here we go. Feedback is love.

Title:             Whispers Part II
Author:        BackupLover
Fandom:      Veronica Mars
Rating:         T
Summary: Observations of the mourning process

She stands next to herself, peering inquisitively. She questions whether or not its a good idea to attend ones own funeral. The cynic inside her says that she really just wants to know exactly what they thought of her. The innocent inside her questions whether or not she was ever really loved.

That list wasn’t something she ever expected to be found, much less paid attention to. The file on her computer ‘In Case of Emergency’ was something she had written in a flurry of angst, anger and fear. She wonders now if she shouldn’t have included Madison and Clarence on her list of people to be denied. It would have been interesting to see what they did.

The headstone is something she smiles at. She can’t be angry at her father for putting the sentence there, and can’t begrudge him for the small bronze lily flower pressed into the left-hand corner of black marble. He had somehow known that she wouldn’t.

Looking around the crowd she notices that there are people missing, people that should be there, but have chosen not to show their faces. She decides that she won’t go through that door next to her plot until they come and visit her.

I will find out what happened.

When her father walks up to her shell- it’s not her, just a shell of what she used to be- her breath catches. It isn’t fair for him to lose everything. His job, his wife, his daughter. It isn’t fair that he escaped being on that plane, only to arrive back home to an empty world.

She notices the item and laughs, despite the grief. It looks like she finally got that goddamn pony she always asked him for. Hearing his thoughts- apparently it’s a skill they have yet to mention in the movies- the laughter quickly turns to tears. He knows how unfair it is. And somehow he’s decided that it’s his fault she’s gone. That the skills she honed with him were the cause of this.

Leaning towards him she tries to place a comforting hand on his arm. When it falls through his solid flesh, she steps back. Her voice not working, she can only mouth the words.

You’re my Daddy.

I love you.

Noticing a new person standing to come forward, she wondered if it was possible for your heart to stop if you’re already dead. The murmers of the crowd are from people who don't understand. Her father says nothing and steps aside slightly. He is the one person who never took her bull. He saw through her carefully constructed webs made of lies by omission, the biggest one being her inability to give in to him. To be with him completely, to love him the way he deserved to be. He is the one that she’s the most concerned for. Her father will throw himself into her case. Once he solves it, then she’ll worry about how he’s going to survive.

But the boy in front of her is a different story. She’s heard the same newscasts that she has- that their former group of carefree days was cursed. She bleakly wonders if it’s true. Two dead, one missing, and the final member hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol. That was the sign that scared her the most. It seems that anguish is just enough of an inhibitor to keep him from the world. It terrifies her that she might be the final nail in his coffin.

The tears fall harder now, and she’s overcome with the whirlwind of emotions that always seems to surround the two of them. In her misery she attempts a kiss, but it fails just like the previous interaction. Between gasps, the words stutter out as she stares at the gift he had promised her when their relationship had seemed so easy.

I never should have caused you pain.

You're a marshmallow, BFF.

She remembers the day that she cut the new kid down from the flagpole, the day she mocked the leader of a biker gang and somehow made friends with the only person in Neptune who wasn’t around when Lilly died. The boy who refused to flee when she gave him the glare she had perfected so many weeks previous.

With a gasp she sits up and realizes the bitter karma. The thing that forced her to change had now been placed on his shoulders. He is now going to live with the icy memories of a girl who was no longer with him. Her pain was going to be his pain.

It isn’t until she hears the thud of a flour sack that she sees what he has given her as a final gift. Apparently, he still expected spirit boxes to be made from the afterlife. She would be offended if she wasn’t so touched. Afraid to stand, she doesn’t reach out to hug him. The pain of another pass-through would be too much. So she settles with hugging her knees while leaning against her headstone, and whispers the regret that fills her now.

I am so sorry you have to live with this.

There will never be another one like you.

She could see him during the ceremony. Sitting on the right side, in the center. She wonders if he’s here out of obligation.

Getting up to stand before him, her face fills with wonder as she listened. The man who called her to his office so many times was actually sad that she was gone. Sure, their rapport had been slightly more casual than it probably should have, but their standings as administration and student were always clearly defined. Noticing the keyring that he’s clenching in his fist, her tears stop and a watery grin breaks out.

The touching isn’t an issue here, the two of them never hugged when she was alive. The one handshake they had shared was when he was saying farewell to her and handing out diplomas. But she is still able to hear thoughts, and laughs when she hears his sentiment.

I should hope not, she replies dryly it would suck to have another round of heartbreak.

I loved you like a daughter.

She had wondered if he was going to visit. She knew he would attend the funeral, despite his wife’s protests. There weren’t any tears, but he was still there in the back. He had never been able to resist a Mars woman. Scoffing at her bitterness, she sits back and listens.

It shocks her that he was proud of her. She had always assumed that he thought of her as the dirty little secret that turned out to be a false alarm. He had been nice when she was at the house, but she had chalked it up to either playing a role or paternal instinct.

The tears almost start to leak again when she sees the bracelet. But she stops, reminding herself that she’s spent enough time on the Kanes. She’s surprised once again to know that he could see the transformation within her when regarding him. But he wasn’t completely right. She had never grown to ignore him like he thought, but simply came to accept that he had made mistakes. In response to his quiet admission, she says nothing for a while. But as he is leaving, she finds the words.

At one time, I loved you like a father.

Veronica Mars is smarter than me.

She knew he would show up at some point. Since her father had obeyed her wish, Wallace had been given the job of telling the local law that his presence would not be required at the funeral of the pretty blonde girl he made cry. Both Logan and Wallace had told her dad that they knew the reason she didn’t want him there, but they refused to reveal the information. For that her love for them grew even more.

Disgusted at his silent admission of desire, she had been ready to go see how Logan was doing. She had actually stood and dusted her jeans out of habit before she saw it.

Then she was ready to find out if at some point in the last few minutes, she had solidified. Wanted to see him try to fight off invisible punches fueled by the rage of a distraight dead girl. As he held the star in its envelope. The badge of honor he had no place holding. But he seemed to know it, and set it quickly on the ground. Breathing out, she shook her head and bitterly says the words she had come to accept.

I can't bring myself to hate you.

You were someone I could have really been with.

Knowing he would come at some time, she had waited for the gang leader. She knew that he didn’t miss out on her funeral purposely, but Lamb had kind of arrested him at graduation. And it’s hard to say goodbye to a girl when you’re stuck behind some bars.

Leave it to him to see this as another failure on his part. She could hear him mentally tabulating the favor scale, and realizing that he was never going to be even. The jacket made her laugh, she always knew she was the bigger badass.

This declaration of love was not one that made her gag. Sadness filled her when she beheld the tears streaming down his face. Knowing that despite his criminal past, he was still too good a guy for her. With a wistful and sympathetic smile on her face, she sighed at his choice in women.

You always fell for the wrong ones.

I always loved you.

She’s stuck between angry and amused to find him on a boat. She had told him specifically not to keep one, since that’s the way he came to his new life. But he had never listened to her. Never noticed that she was different.

But seeing him with his daughter made her forget about the boat issue. He was actually a good father, despite having the parents he did. There was no pressuring of her, no enrollment in a private school, or encouragement of ballet. He had his own life to worry about, his own problems. Like why it was that all three women he had slept with ended up dead.

It made her sad that the photo he dropped was of the old her. It confirmed her suspicions that he still couldn’t see the changes she had made. He had been amused by her cases, but not in the way Logan had. He had seen them as a hobby, like scrapbooking, something that kept her entertained and amused. With bittersweet eyes, she quietly corrects him.

I'm not the girl you'll always cherish.

It takes three months for them all to visit her. Three came more often than the others, but that’s to be expected. She almost cried when Logan went with Wallace to shop for college stuff. She did cry when her father was there during freshman orientation, and he took them all out to lunch. She still occasionally found herself transported to one of them, when they thought about her particularly hard.

Observing them all, hearing their whispers, she realizes with a cold shudder that her life had been filled with lies. She lied to her father, never telling him about her rape. She lied to Logan, never being truthful about her feelings for him. She lied to Wallace, never warning him that she sucked at the whole friendship thing. She lied to Clemmons, but she never felt guilty. She lied to Jake, never telling him that she knew. She lied to Lamb, and never did it without a smile. She lied to Weevil, never giving him a chance to explain his relationship with her dead best friend. She lied to Duncan, never showing that she wasn’t happy with him the second time around.

But despite the lies, she had genuinely cared for all of them at one point. And now she knew that she had touched their lives in the same way they left imprints on her.

So here she was, standing with all the items they had left her: a childhood wish, the meaningful stuffed bear, ingredients for her final batch of cookies, keys to a school she no longer attended, the trinket that had adorned her dead best friend’s wrist, a mocking symbol of truth and justice, a worn leather jacket and the picture of the girl long gone.

The shimmering door opens without a sound, and through the light she can hear her name called by an old friend. Wiping her eyes, she steps away from her plot. Despite her intention while alive, she will not stick around and taunt the people who wronged her. Instead, she will watch over those who loved her. Turning to the entrance, she takes one more glance and whispers the words that she knows will come true.

Remember me.

Whispers

2008-05-23T02:01:58Z

I first started writing fanfiction while watching the fantastic Veronica Mars. While the show itself lost flavor after she graduated Neptune High, I hold it close to my heart, and have a fair amount of fic devoted to it. This particular one, Whispers, has three parts. It's an AU piece looking at the aftermath that would occur had Veronica actually died at the end of season 2. Each section is in a different POV.

Title:          Whispers (Part I)
Author:      BackupLover
Fandom:    Veronica Mars
Rating:       T
Warnings: Involves character death
Summary: AU, the men of Veronica Mars' life contemplate living without her

The funeral was small. No more than fifty people sat in uncomfortable chairs surrounded by dark red tulips. No white flowers, she had written out what she wanted after her encounter with the Fitzpatricks. No music, no programs, and there was a long list of people that she had written down as not being allowed to attend. There was one liberty her father had taken, though. She had asked for no inscription on her epitaph, but the words were engraved there nonetheless.

She never took no for an answer and pushed ahead where others paused.

The press is there, down the winding road. Stopped at the gates, but their presence is known. The story of the sheriff’s daughter/best friend to Lilly Kane/star witness in the Aaron Echolls trial being found shot on the roof of the Neptune Grand the night of her high school graduation was national news. It seemed murder had come again to the small California town with a higher death rate that Los Angeles.

Through the bleakness of the day, the sun shone in true SoCal fashion. All of them cursed inwardly at the mild weather with a soothing breeze. Something precious had been taken from them, it should be raining with shove-over gales. God had at least given them clouds for the other girl’s ceremony. It didn’t matter, not really. Her being gone was like a black hole anyway.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For teaching her the skills which had gotten her killed. For not getting to her fast enough.

The driving force in his life was below him. She was his everything, and now she was gone. No parent should have to lose a child, he thought. No child should have to lose their life. No child should have to live the life she had. But she had lived it, and somehow made it look easy. He couldn't even comprehend everything he knew she had to go through, and there were the issues that he didn't know about. There was the life-altering moment of which he hadn't been told the reason. Now he wonders if he should have asked.

Dropping to his knees, the figurine fell out of his hands before her box. As he stood again, he propped the pony in her arms and whispered softly, hoping she could hear him.

I will find out what happened, sweetheart.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For hating her for so long, when none of it was her fault. For not admitting to himself that he loved her.

The girl that he thought would forever be a thorn in his side was lying lifeless in front of him. She had been everything- friend, enemy, lover. He had long ago forgiven her for breaking up with him that summer. After the year they had shared, he understood that she wanted normal again. The only problem he had with her choice was that normal was not him. He had known what she couldn’t admit. Normal is a pipe dream, you need to embrace the deformities.

Ignoring the murmurings that came from the crowd when he rose, he walked up to the front and stood next to her father. Placing the bear on her casket, he whispered the sentiment written on its heart.

I love you.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For leaving her alone that night, and going off to the girl she had never approved of. For not making her trust him enough to call him for help.

Meeting her had changed his life, even though he hadn’t realized it. Her confidence that had come from tragedy helped him become more outgoing. She had been the hardest person to befriend, but once she considered him one, she was fiercely possessive. He should have been just as overprotective, sheilding her from what had happened.

Setting his shoulders back, he stood above the hole and dropped a grocery bag full of baking supplies. Clenching his jaw in grief, he whispered the words that had surprised her the first time he spoke them.

You’re a marshmallow, BFF.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For not doing more to make those first few tragic months easier for her. For not giving her that parking space.

He had watched her mature, into a hard and calculating young woman who was capable of anything. She had aged him twenty years, but he knows he’d give her more if she could only barge into his office again. The unconventional relationship they had was one that he had been perturbed by at first, but had then come to appreciate.

Clenching the item in his pocket, he neglected to walk to the front and leave it. He knew he couldn’t come back, because a high school principal isn’t supposed to visit the grave of a former student. Much less leave a set of master keys to the school next to her headstone. Instead, he whispered his note of respect.

There will never be another one like you.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For messing her life up, before she was even born. For never telling her the truth.

The child that he had hoped could be forgotten had been thrust into his life twofold when she became best friends with his acknowledged children. Even after she was no longer allowed in his life- his fault- she grew into a young woman that he could be proud of. That he was proud of. It didn't matter, she had grown to hate him. She had learned the truth, little by little. He could see each time she found out the next betrayal on his part. Her eyes slowly lost their grief and pity when they focused on him, they had eventually become dulled with disinterest.

Placing the last piece of Lilly’s jewelry Celeste had kept in the house next to the stone, he whispered the words he had never told her.

I loved you like a daughter.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For mocking her in her time of need. For continually making her life hell.

Her face had haunted his dreams for a long time. And with her death, the image had popped up again. Over the course of two years he watched her change, and hadn't been entirely sure if he had liked it. It had taken him a while to face the feelings, but somewhere along the way he had fallen in lust with her. Not love, because that was an emotion neither of them appreciated. He had taunted her in order to keep his mouth away from where he really wanted it to be. And her taunts back at him reminded for him to not take it further. That and the fact that he knew she would reject him. She had every right to.

Placing a badge on the ground- the one that should have belonged to her father, he whispered the words he knew to be true.

Veronica Mars is smarter than me.

He hated himself. For not being able to protect her. For losing another girl that went toe to toe with him. For not realizing how much she meant to him.

For years he had seen her as everyone else had: the virginal sidekick to Neptune’s princess. Even when she made her ‘transformation,’ he had refused to see her. Then she challenged him, and a favor-based relationship was made. He was her petty criminal, she was his secret get-out-of-jail-free card.

Kneeling before the engraved slab, he set a folded leather jacket in front of it. Shedding tears freely, he whispered what he recognized now that she was gone.

You were someone I could have really been with.

He hates himself. For not being able to protect her. For walking past her the first time. For asking her for help the second time. For loving her when he shouldn’t have.

He found out through the television that she was gone. The event that had shifted their lives has shoved them all into he public eye. There were talks of a curse onto the foursome among the less than reputable news sources. He wonders if it’s true.

Staring out to the ocean while sitting on his boat, he found himself not knowing how long he had been there. Dropping the tattered photo of homecoming past, he found himself without a voice. Typical. Not able to speak, his thoughts came out as a whisper.

I always loved you.

Sitting in silence, those whose lives had been touched by the blonde each had thoughts, wishes and regrets. If only they had seen something, heard something, done something to stop what had happened. But despite their best efforts, the girl had a list of enemies the president would be impressed with. She had tangled with two different mafias, psychotic movie stars, corrupt businessmen and handled high school. It was almost anticlimactic of her to be found alone of a rooftop with a bullet in her skull, and no one else around that she had taken with her.

There would be no more head tilts, no more favors, no more scathing remarks or accusations. The tornado they had all been pulled to had been taken away, leaving them all still reeling with whiplash.

She had lived life as though bulletproof. Each one of them wishes she hadn’t been proved wrong. None of them say the words out loud, but the feeling is overwhelming.

Come back.

summer work

2008-05-19T18:20:11Z

So, after my first job option totally screwed me over by hiring someone's neice instead of me... grrr. I had an interview today! The doc seemed eager to put me on, but since it's a temp he's got to go through the list of employees and see if they can give me the hours I need. Here's hoping!

Fic: Necessary

2008-05-15T03:42:42Z

So here's the first of my fanfics. It's of Lex Luthor and Chloe Sullivan from the CW's Smallville. I posted it about a year ago on NaughtySeduction.net and got pretty good reviews from the readers there, which was a real confidence booster for someone who doesn't write that much. It was made after a bad break-up and me depending on two of my guy friends that I wouldn't trade for the world. Hope it's still good.

There was notice that it could be a teaser to a longer fic, but I've found it difficult to come up with an overall plotline that fits the intensity. I might link up some individual drabbles, but I'm not sure yet. Follow the cut and feel free to comment.

Title: Necessary
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Michael Rosenbaum would not ever be in an episode because he'd be far to busy divesting himself of clothes. And I would have a car. A shiny car.

Her coworkers call her ruthless, tenacious, professional and all those replacement words for brutal. Her boyfriends say that she’s career-oriented, restrained, and guarded when they give her the excuse on why things aren’t working out. Her friends excuse her as individual, private, or controlled; but what they really mean is that she’s grown cold. He doesn’t judge, simply hands her a glass when he finds her in his apartment looking down on the world.

The world gives its opinion on how he should be considered. He is the embodiment of all the words they use and don’t use to describe her. Hated, respected, feared are the three most common terms used. The hatred she felt for him has passed, the respect is begrudged, and fear has never been an issue. He knows her fears, and he’s not one of them. She doesn’t bat an eyelash when he hands her a key to his place.

The two of them have somehow come to a comfortable, if somewhat distant, connection. She has figured out the right time is to come to him when a particularly hard story of his business dealings hits the stands. He knows never to offer her wine when she comes on her own and stares out that window, because she hates to be a cliché. There are entire evenings that neither of them speak, just sit in silence on his balcony as they survey the damage below them.

A bottle of her shampoo resides under the sink of the master bathroom. The women that spend the night don’t ask where it comes from, just like they don’t ask about the box of tampons in the guest’s. Two changes of men’s clothing can be found in her closet, pressed and starched. One business, one casual. She ignores the questioning looks from her lovers.

She remembers how her last relationship ended. Her boyfriend and she had gone to a tear-jerker movie, and all she could do was comment that the filming style was reminiscent of DeMille. His frustrated question of whether or not she had legitimate feelings, had ever felt legitimate pain was one that she refused to answer. The words that ended it were in response to his cynical asking if she could even shed tears. “I only cry over significant things.”

He doesn’t care how his relationships end. Diamond earrings are stacked in his study, waiting to be given out. The women he’s with aren’t easy, just easy to understand. Money, prestige and the experience is all they want from him. He doesn’t even need to say anything when he slips out of bed before they wake. But for her there’s a voicemail every other day stating that he’s alright. “Checking up on you. No kidnappings, attempted murders or engagements to speak of.”

Despite all the warnings and evidence to the contrary, she knows she’s safe with him. Trust is not something either of them is used to, but it’s all they have between them. The simple facts that while they fight and argue, they won’t leave the other alone. And they won’t give someone the chance to tear them apart, emotionally or physically. He’s gotten her out of scrapes, and she gives him an out when a society woman sets her sights. Both of them are fiercely protective of the other, if only because they don’t know what to do apart. She’s died for him, he’s killed for her.

There’s no definition to what they are, the two of them, together. They don’t count each other as friends, because there are no celebratory dinners when one succeeds at something. Lovers is a term that many assume, but the pair knows better. What they have means too much to waste on sweaty sheets and gasping breaths. It goes beyond that, deeper. Somehow, the only thing between them is need. Unexplainable need to have the other. They’re friends without friendship. Partners without a partnership. Lovers without love. Soulmates without souls.