Veronica Mars

Beaver's still watching him.

And he's aiming --

Bang!

-- and this one only misses by inches, striking the metal frame of the skylight in another rain of sparks.

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Logan ducks again, thanking...well, whoever that Beav's a lousy shot.

That's why he kinda misses what comes next.

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Veronica Mars is not very big: she's short, and small enough to still wear t-shirts from the kids' section every now and then. She's not the kind of person you'd expect to tackle you.

Which is probably why it works so well. Beaver never sees it coming.

Veronica uses all of her weight to knock beaver to the ground, and then struggles forwards: both of her hands around his wrist, trying to take the gun.

It was stupid, stupid to call Logan up here. How many people she cares about are going to die tonight?

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Compared to his brother and father, Beaver's built like a twig. He fights to catch his breath, stretching his arm forward to keep the gun out of Veronica's hands.

At the same time, he gets his other hand under him and pushes.

It's enough to raise him a few inches off of the ground. Enough to get some leverage; to expose Veronica's stomach.

He elbows her in the gut as hard as he can and rolls over, struggling to his feet.

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No...

Veronica falls to the side, clutching at her stomach. She can see him recovering, getting up, and she wants to get up - wants to fight him again. But she can't. Her body refuses to cooperate.

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As soon as he makes it, Logan's there, leaping onto Cassidy.

He's no athlete, but he's strong enough to make sure Cassidy goes down.

The gun slides off, out of reach, but Logan's too busy trying to keep Cassidy down to notice.

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He's got Beaver in a half nelson soon enough, hauling him back to lock his arms around him.

But Beaver's still got the taser.

With a loud grunt, he throws all of his not-very-considerable weight against Logan's shoulder. Somehow, it's enough to flip them both over -- and all it takes after that is a smooth follow-through to swing his arm around and jam the sparking weapon into Logan's side.

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Logan writhes in pain and makes a small, animal sound of anguish as the electricity jolts through him. Nothing's clear anymore except the pain.

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BLAM.

That's the thing about gunshots. They're hard to ignore.

The first one goes into the air, a warning. But as soon as Beaver looks up, Veronica points the gun directly at him.

"Logan. Move away from him."

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Logan obeys, watching Veronica warily, hands up.

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Veronica waits, impatient, shaking, for Logan to get out of the way.

Beaver suddenly looks very young, and very scared.

Her finger's on the trigger. She couldn't care less.

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"Veronica, no," he says quietly, trying to watch both her and Beaver now, just in case one decided to do something rash.

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She remembers what she'd been thinking earlier, as Aaron walked out of the courthouse surrounded by wellwishers instead of prison guards.

( The innocent suffer. The guilty go free )

But not this time. Not now. She can't - can't let it happen again.

Her voice breaks as she screams.

"He killed my father!"

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"Give me the gun, Veronica," Logan says slowly, quietly, trying to keep his voice soothing.

He walks toward her slowly, so slowly, trying not to scare her or give Beaver any ideas.

His heart is breaking for her, but he can't let her do this, can't let her become a killer.

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Silver. Cold.

"He killed everyone on the bus!"

The smell of sulfur on the air. Her eyes choke with tears.

Beaver looks nervous, as well he should.

"He raped me!"

After all... there's no justice.
( There's just me. )

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Logan looks back at Beaver, surprised.

Didn't you sort that out last year?

Not important.

"You're not a killer, Veronica," he says, his eyes wide, earnest.

Not being a killer is a really important identity trait.

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Maybe neither of them is.

(Maybe they both are.)

But Beaver, well. He's not so much a grey area, is he? Smiling, smirking. Taunting her as she dialed.

The gun's aim wavers, as Veronica sobs.

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Logan is absolutely certain he's not a killer. Whether it's objectively true is another question, but he can't allow himself to think of that. This is not a relative question. You either are or you aren't, and Logan's firmly put himself in the former category.

He knows Veronica does too, but the question is: Does she know? And also, is he right? Logan's been wrong too many times for certainty, but in this case, he is as close as it's possible to be.

Logan keeps repeating the words, "Give me the gun, Veronica, you're not a killer," over and over, over the sound of her shaking sobs. His hand is almost, but not quite, touching hers, almost close able to reach out and take the gun.

That's not what he wants. He wants her to give it to him. That's the only option that is acceptable now.

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How easy would it be. How simple.

Keith Mars is dead.

Seconds stretch out. There's a low hum at the base of her skull, a taste like ashes, like copper, a smell like the ocean. She can't stop crying.

( Now that you have nothing left to live for ... )

Maybe Cassidy was wrong about that.
( What would Lilly think? )

Her hand droops and Logan takes the gun, and Veronica leans into his arms, her tear-stained face pressing into his shoulder.

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Logan holds her tightly, rocks her back and forth, as if she's a tiny child and he's the only thing standing between her and the boogeyman.

Maybe he is.

He leans his face into his hair, his heart aching at every sob that rakes her body, wishing he could do more, but also just glad he can do something.

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His bravado's gone. It's been gone ever since Veronica found the gun.

It's not coming back.
they say that what you mock will surely overtake you
Pale and sick, Beaver slips away, walking to the edge of the rooftop as if hypnotized. He glances over his shoulder at Logan and Veronica, sets both hands on the rail, and looks down at the streetlights, one hundred feet below.

Then he boosts himself up and over to stand on the ledge.

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Logan looks up, just to check on Beaver, to make sure he hasn't decided this would be a fun time to find the taser and come at Veronica again.

He's shocked at what he sees: Beaver's leg swinging over the railing, the slight figure staring at the street below.

The Coronado Bridge

"Beaver!" he says, releasing Veronica, taking a step toward

his mother's car

"Don't!"

Weevil's face, jeering and hateful.

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He turns around.
and you become a monster so the monster will not break you
"My name," he screams, face twisted in anguish, "is CASSIDY!"

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"What are you going to do to me, huh?"

"Cassidy, don't!" Logan says, his voice hoarse. He's hoping like hell he's not too late, that he can do something, and really doubting that anything short of pulling Cassidy down

"We'll think of something."

from the railing, and he can't do that, it's too dangerous and Cassidy's crazy. Crazy gives you extra strength. Logan ought to know.

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