meriwethersays

Title: All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues
Author: Meriwether
Series: Hiding
Characters/Ship: Lamb, Logan (not slash!)
Rating: PG to PG-13 for thematic (abuse)
Timeline: Set during seasons 1 and 2, AU after
Summary: Lamb. Logan. Hints of Aaron.


He gets a phone call one night, from someone who sounds like an old Hispanic lady, reporting a disturbance at the Echolls mansion. “Please, come fast,” she begs.

So he gets in his squad car and drives fast, using his siren to run red lights even though it’s eleven o’clock at night and there’s no one around to watch appreciatively. He’d love to be the hero, catch some stalker freak breaking in and forever win the gratitude of movie star Aaron Echolls. He knocks on the door, and the Echolls kid answers.

“Police department, there was a dist– Jesus Christ, what happened?” The kid is swaying, bleeding and bruised with three fingers broken and burns on his palm.

Before Logan can answer, Aaron himself appears at the door. “Sheriff? Is something the matter?”

“We got a call about a disturbance in your home, Mr. Echolls. Just thought we should check it out, in case there was a stalker or something.” He laughs at his joke, trying to cover his unease. “What happened to your kid?”

Logan starts to answer, but Aaron grips the back of his neck and says, “He got into a fight with some bikers. You really ought to look into that, Sheriff. I wouldn’t want anything serious to happen to my son.”

For just a second, a pleading look flashes in Logan’s eyes, followed swiftly by despair. He slumps a little and says, “Yeah, those fucking Mexicans jumped me. What’s the matter with you and your department?”

Lamb nods and says, “We’ll look into it, sir,” and he hates himself, hates himself for not having the balls to say that no biker gang would leave five-minute-fresh cigarette burns, hates himself for leaving the kid there, but what can he do?

He drives back to the station and decides that the Echolls kid must have been fighting, because that doesn’t happen in families like Logan’s.

A year later, he takes an unhealthy amount of pleasure in arresting Aaron Echolls for the attempted murder of Veronica Mars and the murder of Lilly Kane, no matter how much he dislikes Veronica and the way she’s made him look like a fool. But in the back of his mind, he’s panicking, Oh Jesus, what if I was wrong that night? What if Logan wasn’t in a fight?

*

On the anniversary of his mother’s death, Logan is arrested and hauled into the police department. “We found him on the Coronado Bridge, Sheriff,” Deputy Sacks says. “What should we do?”

Lamb inspects Logan, wondering, Kid, what were you thinking? Echolls reeks of expensive alcohol, and his eyes are blurry and bloodshot. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in a week. “Throw him in a cell overnight so he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s got a trial coming up.”

Logan can’t walk straight, can barely stand up, so Lamb half-drags him into a cell and dumps him on the cot. The kid is unconscious in a matter of minutes.

*

He’s working late in his office – no matter what Keith Mars might say, he’s determined to solve this case – when he hears noises back in the cells and goes to investigate. Logan Echolls has fallen off his cot and is thrashing around on the floor, whimpering.

“Hey, kid!” he calls. “Kid!”

Logan doesn’t wake up.

Lamb unlocks the cell and walks in. He pauses for a minute, considering the mess he’s about to get himself into, and then nudges Logan with his foot. “Echolls. Wake up.”

Logan’s eyes snap open, and he scrambles to his feet, wiping his face quickly. “Fuck you,” he spits. “What do you want?”

Lamb braces himself. “You know why you’re here?” Logan refuses to answer. His shirt is torn down the front, and as he twists it exposes a small circular scar on his chest. Lamb tenses. “Take off your shirt.”

“You fucking insane? I haven’t done anything wrong. No way I’m stripping.”

“Take off your shirt, or I will personally make sure that this security tape is on the Internet tomorrow morning and the entire world can see you sobbing in a jail cell.”

Logan glares at him, but relents and pulls his shirt over his head. “Happy?”

“Turn around.”

Reluctantly, Logan turns around, and Lamb wants to throw up. His back is crisscrossed with white lines and scattered with small round burns, and Lamb hates that he never investigated whether or not the bikers actually jumped Logan.

“You never reported anything,” Lamb says quietly.

Logan spins and meets his eyes. They’re silent for a moment; then Logan reads his answer in Lamb’s face and replies, “Neither did you.”



My journal contains more fic; and remember, feedback is writers' crack. Only...not harmful.