Hallelujah, I'm actually on schedule! Thank you guys so, so, so much for your comments and constructive criticism and just general love and support. I am leaving for vacation on June 29th, so my goal is to have chapter six done by the 28th. It might be sooner, but I'd rather say the 28th to be safe. Please enjoyyy!

The Way We Were - Chapter Five

He'd forgotten how addictive kissing Veronica could be.

He'd forgotten how fun it could be, and how crazy, and how breath-stealing, and how sexy, and how-

"Logan!" she giggles. "Watch it!"

Logan glances behind him at the food tray he'd nearly overturned. "Sorry. I think I almost killed your bowl of orange-colored... gelatinous..."

"Slop?" Veronica finishes. "Well, that would have been a shame. We might have had to order in from Mama Leone's instead."

She tugs him back down into a kiss and he laughs into it. "First thing we do," she says between kisses, "once I'm out of here, is go back to your place and order everything on the Grand's room service menu. The caprese panini, the cheddar broccoli soup-"

"That almond-apricot cheesecake that you nearly eviscerated me with a fork over?" laughs Logan.

"I have no memory of that incident whatsoever," sing-songs Veronica with a grin, just as Logan freezes abruptly, going tense and still in her arms.

No memory. God.

For a second there, Logan had completely lost himself. It had been so easy to pretend for those few moments that he was still living in the Grand; that he'd be taking Veronica there once she was well enough; that he'd be able to lay her out on his bed and feed her and hold her and make love to her and god, Logan is an idiot of epic proportions.

"Logan?" she asks worriedly as he quickly extricates himself from her, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up and putting space between them. "Logan, what's wrong?"

No memory of that incident whatsoever.

And also no memory of the Madison incident, and no memory of either their fight or the subsequent fallout. No memory of the sex tape or the cafeteria fight or that godawful phone call the following year. No memory of the botched election or her falling-out with Mac or-

"You're being very gentle, Logan, if that's what you're worried about. Is that it? Are you ... afraid of injuring me?" asks Veronica, gesturing vaguely to a few of her wounds.

Her eyes are wide and guileless, and Logan swallows hard, remembering those same eyes narrowed to angry slits, that same face heated with anger and that same voice vibrating with rage as she told him she was done with him, that she wanted him completely out of her-

"Yeah," he says flatly, averting his eyes. "Someone could definitely get hurt here."

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The afternoon that follows is unfathomably strange.

Logan wouldn't say it's the best he's ever had and it's far from being the worst he's ever had, but it certainly ranks among the most bizarre.

If someone had told him several weeks ago that he'd be spending a Sunday afternoon chatting, laughing, and eating pizza in a private hospital room with Veronica and Keith Mars, Wallace Fennel, and Cindy Mackenzie, he would have been extremely taken aback.

But the strangest part is how... not-strange it is, at least in some ways.

The relationships Logan has formed with Veronica's loved ones are all fraught with tension and difficult to quantify, ranging from semi-adversarial to outright aversive. But the central element that has always drawn this group together is their connection to Veronica - and although the circumstances have changed, that fact has not.

When he and Veronica had been dating, Logan had been forced to be on his best behavior around Keith, Wallace, and Mac. He's in much the same position now, but the beauty of it is - so are they.

No one wants to upset Veronica or clue her into the fact that there are three extra years' worth of bitterness and recrimination between the members of her support system, and the end result is that they have all been forced into a temporary detente. Wallace and Mac are chatting and joking around amicably with each other and with Logan, and Keith is treating Logan with a deferential kindness that's bordering on fatherly.

"Go easy on Logan, honey," Keith tells Veronica when she remarks on the dark circles under his eyes. "Neither of us has been able to get any real sleep since you've been here."

Keith gives Logan a tired, fond smile and Logan squirms uneasily in his seat. Keith can't possibly know that he's right, of course, about the reason that Logan hasn't been sleeping. Despite that, it still feels strange to be given any credit for caring about Veronica.

Of course, Veronica's memory loss makes it impossible to have a truly relaxed conversation. In Logan's mind, there is a near constant whir of can we talk about this? and has this happened yet? and has she met this person yet?

There actually have been a few times when someone has slipped up and mentioned something outside the realm of Veronica's memories. These slip-ups have led to abject bewilderment on Veronica's part, which everyone else then attempts to assuage through some combination of backtracking, lies, and hastily changed subjects.

But there's an undercurrent of denial lurking beneath the surface of Veronica's reactions. It's a fact made especially clear to Logan when Mac makes an offhand remark about President Obama, only to watch Veronica's eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling.

"President who now?" says Veronica.

"President Obama," repeats Mac promptly, only to gasp about two seconds later. "Uh," she says, sounding distinctly panicked, "President. Obama. Obama... who is not our president. Obama, who is... running for president? Is what I meant."

And the collective breath of everyone in the room is held as Veronica narrows her eyes - and is then exhaled in relief as Veronica shrugs, nods, and fucking accepts this lame-ass explanation.

Logan shakes his head imperceptibly as the realization crystallizes in his mind: the doctors had been right. Veronica is choosing not to question things; in fact, she has been outright dismissing all the evidence that points to something being amiss - something Logan has never, ever seen her do.

That's hard enough to watch. Then there's the moment when Veronica lifts her head up, brave and unknowing, and says to all of them:

"So I know we haven't talked about it... but I'm sure you've all noticed by now that I've lost some of my memories from before the attack."

Logan's heart clenches. Wallace freezes, as does the slice of extra-cheese pizza in his hand, paused on its journey to his mouth. Mac looks down at the floor uncomfortably and Keith sets down his glass of ice-water on the tray next to Veronica's bed with a hand that shakes slightly.

Keith clears his throat.

"We can talk about that if you like, honey." He stops short, giving Veronica a swift look of assessment. "Or we don't have to; it's completely up to you."

"I'm up to it," she says. "I wouldn't even know they were missing except..." she swallows, and it's as if the tension in the room has caused the air to expand; the atmosphere feels suddenly stifling and weighted down. "The attack," she says finally. "I don't remember it. I've listened to you talk about it, Dad, and I've tried to remember anything at all about it, but-"

"That's normal," breaks in Mac suddenly. "The doctors all said that's normal, Veronica; a lot of people with past head trauma never recover their memory of the incident. When you're subjected to that kind of injury, it's like your entire limbic system goes haywire, and in your case the hippocampus sustained so much damage that-"

"It's not... just... that, though," interrupts Veronica, sounding strained. "It's like... I can't remember anything surrounding the attack. I don't know why Liam went after me; I have no idea what I was doing in that warehouse. And I feel like the world's most useless P.I. because I have wracked my brain over and over, but... I haven't even been able to remember what case I'm working on that involves them. It's like my memories just break off and stop and it's all a big, terrifying blur."

Veronica's face looks even paler than usual next to the red bruise splashed against her eye. Logan has never seen her looking so distressed and it's affecting him badly; it's as though he can feel her pain and exhaustion coursing through his own body.

"What do you remember?" he asks quietly.

The question is out before he can help himself, and if he hadn't realized on his own that it was the stupidest thing he could have asked, the three pairs of eyes trained furiously on him confirm his suspicions. Keith, Wallace, and Mac look quickly from Logan to Veronica, however, and he knows that they're just as desperate to hear the answer as he is.

Veronica closes her eyes. "I remember... Dad telling me to have a good day at school? And meeting Mac at her dorm and walking to class with her and Bronson. And I remember I went to my statistics class and met up with Wallace for lunch. Logan texted me in the afternoon. Some kind of crack about what we were going to do for Valentine's Day, I think?"

Logan swallows hard - because he remembers that text; he could probably still scroll through his phone and find it. They'd broken up for good a week or so later, he thinks, in late January.

"Did I miss Valentine's Day?" she asks suddenly, angling her face toward Logan.

Logan's stomach gives a low, sick lurch at the wistful expression on her face. He can feel rather than see the awkward glances he's receiving from the others, because of course they all know what Veronica doesn't - that she has missed not one but four Valentine's Days, and that she and Logan haven't been together for any of them.

"It's okay," Veronica says reassuringly, in an apparent reaction to the look on Logan's face. "I was pretty sure I had."

This is awful. This is just... awful to watch. He doesn't know how the others are able to sit by and deal with this, but it's physically painful for Logan.

"Do you remember the date, Veronica?" asks Keith. "What's the last day you can recall?"

Veronica shakes her head. "It was toward the the end of January, that's all I know. And I'm guessing we're well into February?"

The room is collectively still; Veronica's eyes dart searchingly from face to face.

"Yeah," says Wallace finally. "Almost March."

Wallace is an unconvincing liar at the best of times. At the moment, Logan doubts that the most casual of bystanders would believe him, never mind people who love him and know him well. But Veronica so clearly wants to believe it.

"I can't imagine how behind I am in my classes," she says, flopping back onto her pillow with a grimace.

Keith frowns and clears his throat. "I think it goes without saying that you'll take the semester off, Veronica, and concentrate on getting better."

Veronica narrows her eyes at her father. "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who'll be stuck home all day watching Animal Planet and True Crime Tales."

Keith shakes his head. "Veronica-"

"I know, I know," she acquiesces. "Actions. Consequences. I've got the message, believe me. But maybe," she says, face lighting up suddenly, "we can work out some kind of a mutually beneficial deal. I'll take the semester off and I'll agree to lay off the detective work during the length of my convalescence-"

Mac snorts.

"-if you'll agree to run for Sheriff."

Mac and Logan exchange a panicked look and Wallace nearly upsets his soda can. Veronica has no way of knowing this, but her actions in 2007 had skewered Keith's chances of being elected Sheriff. It had been a source of incredible tension between father and daughter; Logan had deduced that and he hadn't even been a part of Veronica's life during the fallout.

"No, but seriously, Dad," she continues, oblivious to the distress on the faces of her loved ones. "Think about it. If I take the semester off, I can help you with the campaign. I've been telling you for months you should do this and now's the perfect time. It's not detective work, it won't be too stressful, I can do it from home-"

"Veronica-"

"What? Dad, it's perfect, you can make such a difference in Neptune, I know you can-"

"Veronica." Keith's voice is sharp. Veronica looks up at him, confusion and hurt evident in her expression, and Keith's voice softens slightly. "Right now I have no interest in running for dog-catcher. My daughter was just gravely injured by some very dangerous men." He shakes his head. "I'm not sure you understand how close we were to losing you."

"Me?" she waves a hand at her bandages dismissively. "Dad, I'll be fine, look, I'm already healing faster than the doctors expected. I'll be back on my feet in no time, you'll see, and I'm sure the doctors will say it's fine if I-"

"You're not fine!" he snaps, so loudly this time that Veronica flinches. "You're not fine, Veronica. The worst of it is that you don't even know how badly-"

Mac presses a hand to her mouth and Wallace puts a hand on Mac's knee, squeezing it lightly.

The look on Veronica's face makes Logan want to pull her into his arms and not let go, but he holds himself back.

"I'm sorry," Keith says, looking somewhat chastened. "I'm sorry. You - you just scared me so much, Veronica. Do you understand? It's not easy for a parent to admit to their child that they're scared, but I've always tried to be honest with you and I'm telling you that this terrified me."

This lecture is a variation on a theme Logan had heard dozens of times over the years from Keith Mars. It could be one of any number of speeches he'd heard Keith make about Veronica's innate recklessness and disregard for her own safety - hell, Logan had even issued a few fairly hypocritical sermons on that topic.

It's so easy to imagine in this moment that those three years had never elapsed. Logan can almost picture it, like a pleasant sort of alternate reality - Keith running for office while Veronica heals from her injuries, the four college kids staying up late into the night, helping make campaign posters and making wisecrack remarks about the other candidates-

On the other hand, there's reality.

"I'm sorry," says Veronica quietly, giving Keith a long, discerning look. "I didn't mean to do it. I don't even remember doing it."

"I know," says Keith wearily. "I know you don't, honey."

Veronica takes a deep breath, single-minded as always. "Will you at least promise me you'll think about running for-?"

"No." Keith's voice is low and very firm.

Veronica squares her shoulders defensively but nods. "Okay. I'll respect that."

"You'll have to," he tells her shortly. "Listen... I'd rather not get into all of this now; not when it's still so early in the recovery process."

Veronica opens her mouth.

"And if you tell me you're fine, I will sic Backup on your Inspector Gadget action figures."

There. That smile. The one Logan hasn't seen since January 2007. It blossoms on Veronica's face, spreading like the slow arc of a rainbow and lighting up her eyes. For a second, the bruise all but fades from Logan's view.

"You wouldn't," she challenges Keith.

He actually wouldn't. Logan knows he wouldn't, because of course Backup had died last summer. And the only reason Logan knows that is because Veronica had donated to an animal rescue in his name as a tribute and posted it to her infrequently updated Facebook page.

"Just you wait and see," Keith says, doing an impression of an evil cartoon villain - an impression that has undoubtedly been making Veronica laugh since the age of three.

Veronica's afternoon nurse comes in just then to administer her next dose of medications and to help her wash up.

"Go home and get some rest," Veronica tells Wallace, Mac, Logan, and her father.

"Wallace," she says, turning to address her best friend, "I believe we have a date tomorrow afternoon. You? Me? William Shakespeare's The Tempest?" she says in a would-be seductive voice, picking up the anthology and shaking it enticingly in Wallace's direction.

"Don't remind me," groans Wallace.

"Brave new world, that has such people in't," she quotes loftily.

"And I'll see you tomorrow night, Veronica," says Mac. "I'll stop by on my way home from w- class," she corrects hastily.

"Sounds good," says Veronica brightly.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," Keith tells her, stooping down to drop a quick kiss onto his daughter's forehead.

"I know you will."

"Who's your daddy?" Keith asks with a smirk.

"This weird old guy," Veronica deadpans. "I'm seriously considering putting myself up for adoption."

Keith pretends to be offended as Veronica swivels slightly to face Logan.

"And I'll see you...?"

Logan wishes, he so wishes that he had an excuse. A vacation. A death in the family. Jury duty. Whatever. And it's not that he begrudges having to spend time with Veronica; in fact, the problem is that he has enjoyed it too much, and once her memories come back...

"Logan?" she says again plaintively. "When will I see you?"'

She stretches a hand out toward him and he takes it automatically. He doesn't think there's a circumstance on earth under which he wouldn't take Veronica's hand when asked.

Veronica's sea-blue eyes captivate him for a long moment; and without even realizing it he is bringing her fingers up to his lips and pressing a kiss to Veronica's hand, mirroring her gesture from earlier in the day.

"Soon," he tells her steadily, against his better judgment. "You'll see me soon."

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Logan is barely holding it together.

He is working off four hours of sleep that took place between two of the most emotionally draining days of his life. He doesn't know which way is up, he has no idea what tomorrow will bring, and he doesn't understand why any of this is happening.

All he knows is that he wants to get away from this goddamn place.

He separates himself from the others as soon as they're out into the corridor, practically racing for the elevator when-

"Logan!"

It takes everything he has not to keep on walking at the sound of Keith Mars' voice.

"Yeah?" he says impatiently, turning around to find Keith a few paces behind him.

"I wanted to talk to you for a second. We haven't really gotten a chance to communicate today and I just wanted to reiterate - well, I wanted to say again how very thankful we are that you're helping us out."

Logan doesn't say anything, hoping his apparent lack of interest will keep this brief.

"Veronica and I appreciate it very much," he says again. "I'm sure it's not easy."

Logan has a sudden, mad urge to come clean about making out with Veronica. He wonders if Keith would haul off and punch him if he did.

"We can't thank you enough," he says again.

"Oh, I don't know," says Logan combatively, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm pretty sure you can, actually."

Far from looking annoyed, Keith looks even more sympathetic. "This has to be very difficult on you. I can't imagine how hard it has to be; I'd hate to be in your shoes."

Then why did you put me in this position? Logan wants to scream. He actually feels like hauling off and punching Keith at the moment. All this fake-fatherly crap; it's the same act he'd gotten from his dad, and Aaron had been much better at it than Keith.

"I'll get by," says Logan sharply, feeling the anger build and wanting out of this conversation. "No thanks to you."

"Listen," says Keith, reaching a hand out to touch Logan's shoulder. "Logan, son, I know this is-"

"I'm not your son!" Logan practically shrieks, recoiling from Keith's touch as though it had burned him. Logan can feel his skin humming with anger; his wrists are pounding from where the blood flows through them. All the rage he feels about this situation is suddenly laser-focused on Keith. This is Keith's fault - he's the one who had Wallace call him, he's the one who's insisting they keep up this ridiculous charade. It's his fault, his fault.

"Logan," says Keith warily, holding up a placatory hand.

"I'm not your son," he repeats viciously. "I'm not your... helper, I'm not your friend, I'm not your anything, okay? Whatever the hell I am to Veronica," he says, furious at himself for the quaking he can hear in his own voice, "I am nothing to you."

And he spins around and storms out the nearest exit, skipping the elevator in favor of pounding his way down the staircase.

Keith's voice follows him, echoing in the stairwell until he's reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs, and echoing in his head all the way out to the parking lot.

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Logan's anger continues to course through him the whole drive home. He stomps on the gas pedal, tearing down the highway like a bat out of hell, furious with the world and with himself.

He pulls into his driveway, stalks angrily up the front yard, and throws open the door of the house to find-

Dick standing in the doorway.

Logan freezes, as does his friend.

They stand stock-still for a long moment, both young men wide-eyed and contrite. Dick's fingers are clenched, white-knuckled, around the surfboard under his arm.

"Hey. Are you...heading out?" asks Logan lamely.

Dick nods reflexively. "Yeah, I was just about to. You, uh - you wanna come?" he asks, sounding somewhat nervous.

Logan's exhausted, but -

"Yeah," he replies quickly. "Thanks, yeah. Just gotta change and grab my board, hold on a sec."

One of the absolute most awesome things about Dick is that he totally gets when Logan doesn't want to talk.

They head down to the beach in companionable silence and they barely talk at all once they're in the water. It would be hard to distinguish voices, anyway, above the roar of the wind and the crashing of the waves. Other than a quick, shouted conversation about the surf conditions and the sound of Dick's gleeful laughter carrying over to him after Logan spectacularly wipes out, they both stay lost in their own thoughts.

About an hour later, they find themselves wading through the surf a couple feet apart from one another, the blood-red light from the setting sun spilling across the surface of the water.

"Ready to head back?" asks Logan, closing his eyes against the sea-salt spray.

"Yeah. Listen...you okay, man?" asks Dick awkwardly, shooting Logan an anxious look.

Logan shrugs and tries to let the weight of the whole situation roll off his shoulders as he does. "Yeah," he says. "Pretty much. Except I'm starving and I'm way tired." His mouth stretches wide around a yawn.

"I made quesadillas," says Dick. "I wasn't sure when you'd get back, so I stuck the leftovers in the fridge for you."

Logan smiles. "Ooh, thanks, honey. Sounds yummy," he says mockingly, which is the absolute closest he'll ever get to saying I love you to his friend.

"Fuck off," replies Dick, flipping off Logan with an easy grin on his face - which Logan knows is Dick's way of saying I love you, too.