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awritinglilypeaTitle: Emotions
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: WeeVer
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Yes
Genre: Angst
Prompt: 5. Misplaced//Table
Summary: Weevil held a lot of misplaced anger, and misplaced sadness.
Warnings: None
Misplaced anger.
Weevil only knew one person who managed to lash out at those who didn’t deserve it more than him.
Veronica.
She was angry at her mother, just like him, for leaving her, just like his had done, although when he admitted it to himself, he really shouldn’t have been mad at her, considering it wasn’t her choice.
More misplaced anger, he guessed. He was angry at his father for ending his mother’s life, but showed that anger to his friends instead of going to show the anger to his father, rotting away for life in prison.
Felix’s death had brought up more anger, anger which he directed at Veronica, at Echolls, at his abuelita and anyone else who happened to be around at the time. It ravaged his insides, twisted him until he wasn’t entirely sure what was right and what was wrong.
Thumper fell victim to his anger, his need for revenge when he knew, despite the Sheriff’s misgivings and horrible ethics, he should have found a way to have him turned in. His family fell away, his friendships, the PCHers, Veronica.
All lost due to his misplaced anger, due to problems that had been set in motion before he was even born, before he had even become a gang leader.
His life, which had seemed so awful, so filled with depressive moments, unwanted love, or rather, loving someone who didn’t want him, was replaced with the loneliness of nights spent alone in a cell with bars as cold as the look Veronica had given him when she last saw him.
Weevil waited, and waited more. Every minute seemed to tick by slowly, and his anger was no longer misplaced, because he only really had one person to blame for how shitty his life had become now, and that was him.
It was stupid really, to lament over everything he’d lost when he’d been arrested at graduation, because it was nothing he could get back.
Maybe that was why he was so shocked when Veronica had responded to him without anger the first time he’d seen her in minutes, days, weeks, months. There was a little fire in her eyes, but he wouldn’t expect anything less coming from her.
One of the first things he noticed about her was that she simultaneously seemed harder yet more vulnerable all at once, like if you chipped away at the exterior long enough it would just fall away.
He’d been so angry, so revved up, and sick of being treated like he was nothing while working at a fucking car wash.
“I’m not spoiled,” Veronica had told him while leaning against the side of her Saturn, a sight that had nearly made him smile, would have made him smile if he weren’t so pissed off. “And uh, technically it wasn’t for graduation.”
Weevil could feel that anger rising again, ugly and treacherous as it crawled up inside of him.
“What about the bitch part?” he asked before he could stop himself, regretting the words the minute they left his mouth.
Why did you say that? She’s done nothing wrong, you’re doing it again. She’s not to blame, she’s not to blame, she tried to help you. His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out how he was supposed to act, especially when he saw the hurt flash through her eyes and guilt settled into the pit of his stomach.
“It depends on who you ask,” Veronica responded, her lips pressed together in a firm line but there was fire in her eyes now, something he hadn’t thought he would see again. If he was honest he actually never expected to see her again.
Weevil’s mouth was dry and there were words on the tip of his tongue that he didn’t wanna say, that he couldn’t bring himself to say because she didn’t deserve his anger at how he’d spent time in prison. It had little to nothing to do with her, especially since she’d tried to prevent him from doing anything too rash, too impulsive.
He wished he’d listened to reason, but when the voice of reason was haunting your dreams every night wearing very little, a guy could go a little bit crazy.
“How are you, Weevil?” Veronica asked him, licking her lips lightly as she did so. His eyes followed her tongue and he wanted. “I haven’t seen you since...”
Weevil’s voice was sharper than he meant for it to be when he replied to her. “Since that whole awkward arrested for murder at graduation thing, I know,” he felt slightly stung, not wanting to think about that moment, about her disappointment. “I remember,” the words fell between them.
“You plea-bargained down to assault?” Veronica questioned, tilting her head to the side, in that way which could have made him fall to his knees when they were in high school, but this was a different time now, and he certainly didn’t feel like Weevil anymore, not that he really felt like Eli either.
Smirking, Weevil found his opening in her words and shook his head, far too amused for what the situation actually warranted. “Yeah, and now I’m working at the car wash, which is not as fun as the song would make it sound.”
Her phone rang then, and Weevil wondered if he would ever see her after this moment, knowing the caller on the other end would most likely be offering her some kind of escape from his presence. Suddenly Weevil became more aware, aware of the eyes on him, of the owner of the car wash watching the two of them together, most likely eyeing Veronica in the same way he did every female customer who wandered into the small business.
His anger unfurled again, as heavy as lead in the pit of his stomach but he wasn’t misplacing it this time, not toward Veronica or himself. Instead he was angry with the man he was supposed to be, the man who was currently eyeing Veronica like a piece of fucking meat.
“I’m off to see the Dean of Hearst College, I guess,” she said a moment later and Weevil could feel a smile tug at the corner of his lips.
“Leopard didn’t change her spots, I see,” Weevil commented, “I wonder if he knows-”
“Hey,” and there he was, the source of much of Weevil’s anger as of late. “I don’t pay you to harass the ladies, screw off again and you’re out on your ass. Got that right, cholo?”
Weevil didn’t think, and when he blinked past the red haze in his vision the two of them are up against the wall, or snack machine and all he wanted to do was punch his fucking lights out. For mocking him, for looking at Veronica the way he did.
Veronica appeared suddenly, a vision to him, one he’d seen so many times on nights spent alone and Weevil actually had to remind himself that she was real. There are threats about parole officers and Weevil glared at her before he could stop himself, registering her stepping back and the pain that resonated through him as she did so.
“I guess I didn’t change my spots either,” Weevil said. “Nice seeing you, V.” He turned and walked away, figuring he would be back in a cell by the time the day was over.
When Veronica knocked on his door later that night, Weevil opened it and tried to summon any semblance of surprise seeing her there.
“What’s going on, V?” he asked her, arching an eyebrow as he leaned against the door-jam, unsurprised when she shoved her way inside and took a look around.
“I found you a job,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest, and in the low lights of his small, dingy rented house he could see the anger in his eyes and wondered if it was just for him, or someone else.
“Did you?” his voice came out harsher than he’d intended, but he couldn’t deny there was a pride issue there, as it was one of the last things he had left.
“Yeah, Mars Investigations, you’re the new errand boy, show up tomorrow at 8,” she responded, tilting her head back and looking into his eyes without a shred of fear there.
In a way, Weevil wanted her to be afraid of him, it would be another emotion misplaced, just like the anger he can practically feel stewing in her. He would never hurt her.
He wanted to say no to the job, but when he looked into her eyes Weevil knew he was just as hung up on her as he had ever been.
“I’ll be there.”
Veronica headed for the door, and when it closed behind her Weevil realized maybe he was the one who was afraid. Afraid he’d lose her again. It wasn’t misplaced though, like his anger, because he’d lost her before.
Now, now it was going to be about getting her back. Back in a way he'd never had her before.
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: WeeVer
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Yes
Genre: Angst
Prompt: 5. Misplaced//Table
Summary: Weevil held a lot of misplaced anger, and misplaced sadness.
Warnings: None
Misplaced anger.
Weevil only knew one person who managed to lash out at those who didn’t deserve it more than him.
Veronica.
She was angry at her mother, just like him, for leaving her, just like his had done, although when he admitted it to himself, he really shouldn’t have been mad at her, considering it wasn’t her choice.
More misplaced anger, he guessed. He was angry at his father for ending his mother’s life, but showed that anger to his friends instead of going to show the anger to his father, rotting away for life in prison.
Felix’s death had brought up more anger, anger which he directed at Veronica, at Echolls, at his abuelita and anyone else who happened to be around at the time. It ravaged his insides, twisted him until he wasn’t entirely sure what was right and what was wrong.
Thumper fell victim to his anger, his need for revenge when he knew, despite the Sheriff’s misgivings and horrible ethics, he should have found a way to have him turned in. His family fell away, his friendships, the PCHers, Veronica.
All lost due to his misplaced anger, due to problems that had been set in motion before he was even born, before he had even become a gang leader.
His life, which had seemed so awful, so filled with depressive moments, unwanted love, or rather, loving someone who didn’t want him, was replaced with the loneliness of nights spent alone in a cell with bars as cold as the look Veronica had given him when she last saw him.
Weevil waited, and waited more. Every minute seemed to tick by slowly, and his anger was no longer misplaced, because he only really had one person to blame for how shitty his life had become now, and that was him.
It was stupid really, to lament over everything he’d lost when he’d been arrested at graduation, because it was nothing he could get back.
Maybe that was why he was so shocked when Veronica had responded to him without anger the first time he’d seen her in minutes, days, weeks, months. There was a little fire in her eyes, but he wouldn’t expect anything less coming from her.
One of the first things he noticed about her was that she simultaneously seemed harder yet more vulnerable all at once, like if you chipped away at the exterior long enough it would just fall away.
He’d been so angry, so revved up, and sick of being treated like he was nothing while working at a fucking car wash.
“I’m not spoiled,” Veronica had told him while leaning against the side of her Saturn, a sight that had nearly made him smile, would have made him smile if he weren’t so pissed off. “And uh, technically it wasn’t for graduation.”
Weevil could feel that anger rising again, ugly and treacherous as it crawled up inside of him.
“What about the bitch part?” he asked before he could stop himself, regretting the words the minute they left his mouth.
Why did you say that? She’s done nothing wrong, you’re doing it again. She’s not to blame, she’s not to blame, she tried to help you. His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out how he was supposed to act, especially when he saw the hurt flash through her eyes and guilt settled into the pit of his stomach.
“It depends on who you ask,” Veronica responded, her lips pressed together in a firm line but there was fire in her eyes now, something he hadn’t thought he would see again. If he was honest he actually never expected to see her again.
Weevil’s mouth was dry and there were words on the tip of his tongue that he didn’t wanna say, that he couldn’t bring himself to say because she didn’t deserve his anger at how he’d spent time in prison. It had little to nothing to do with her, especially since she’d tried to prevent him from doing anything too rash, too impulsive.
He wished he’d listened to reason, but when the voice of reason was haunting your dreams every night wearing very little, a guy could go a little bit crazy.
“How are you, Weevil?” Veronica asked him, licking her lips lightly as she did so. His eyes followed her tongue and he wanted. “I haven’t seen you since...”
Weevil’s voice was sharper than he meant for it to be when he replied to her. “Since that whole awkward arrested for murder at graduation thing, I know,” he felt slightly stung, not wanting to think about that moment, about her disappointment. “I remember,” the words fell between them.
“You plea-bargained down to assault?” Veronica questioned, tilting her head to the side, in that way which could have made him fall to his knees when they were in high school, but this was a different time now, and he certainly didn’t feel like Weevil anymore, not that he really felt like Eli either.
Smirking, Weevil found his opening in her words and shook his head, far too amused for what the situation actually warranted. “Yeah, and now I’m working at the car wash, which is not as fun as the song would make it sound.”
Her phone rang then, and Weevil wondered if he would ever see her after this moment, knowing the caller on the other end would most likely be offering her some kind of escape from his presence. Suddenly Weevil became more aware, aware of the eyes on him, of the owner of the car wash watching the two of them together, most likely eyeing Veronica in the same way he did every female customer who wandered into the small business.
His anger unfurled again, as heavy as lead in the pit of his stomach but he wasn’t misplacing it this time, not toward Veronica or himself. Instead he was angry with the man he was supposed to be, the man who was currently eyeing Veronica like a piece of fucking meat.
“I’m off to see the Dean of Hearst College, I guess,” she said a moment later and Weevil could feel a smile tug at the corner of his lips.
“Leopard didn’t change her spots, I see,” Weevil commented, “I wonder if he knows-”
“Hey,” and there he was, the source of much of Weevil’s anger as of late. “I don’t pay you to harass the ladies, screw off again and you’re out on your ass. Got that right, cholo?”
Weevil didn’t think, and when he blinked past the red haze in his vision the two of them are up against the wall, or snack machine and all he wanted to do was punch his fucking lights out. For mocking him, for looking at Veronica the way he did.
Veronica appeared suddenly, a vision to him, one he’d seen so many times on nights spent alone and Weevil actually had to remind himself that she was real. There are threats about parole officers and Weevil glared at her before he could stop himself, registering her stepping back and the pain that resonated through him as she did so.
“I guess I didn’t change my spots either,” Weevil said. “Nice seeing you, V.” He turned and walked away, figuring he would be back in a cell by the time the day was over.
When Veronica knocked on his door later that night, Weevil opened it and tried to summon any semblance of surprise seeing her there.
“What’s going on, V?” he asked her, arching an eyebrow as he leaned against the door-jam, unsurprised when she shoved her way inside and took a look around.
“I found you a job,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest, and in the low lights of his small, dingy rented house he could see the anger in his eyes and wondered if it was just for him, or someone else.
“Did you?” his voice came out harsher than he’d intended, but he couldn’t deny there was a pride issue there, as it was one of the last things he had left.
“Yeah, Mars Investigations, you’re the new errand boy, show up tomorrow at 8,” she responded, tilting her head back and looking into his eyes without a shred of fear there.
In a way, Weevil wanted her to be afraid of him, it would be another emotion misplaced, just like the anger he can practically feel stewing in her. He would never hurt her.
He wanted to say no to the job, but when he looked into her eyes Weevil knew he was just as hung up on her as he had ever been.
“I’ll be there.”
Veronica headed for the door, and when it closed behind her Weevil realized maybe he was the one who was afraid. Afraid he’d lose her again. It wasn’t misplaced though, like his anger, because he’d lost her before.
Now, now it was going to be about getting her back. Back in a way he'd never had her before.
