Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars. I've actually never owned Veronica Mars. I will never-oh wait…I might pull a Michael Jackson one day, when I'm rich and just buy the rights. THAT'S how much I love this show.
He is dead. He is dead and she is numb, unable to process it. Rain sluices down from the sky, and she shudders, pulling the drenched ends of her sweatshirt closer together. It is a futile attempt to stay warm.
"Veronica, we need to go. Now." His voice is barely a whisper, but harder than she's ever heard it-and if she could feel anything, she's sure she'd be scared for him- worried for his well being. As it is, she can barely function. She's surprised that she's made it this far without retching. There was so much blood. She stops for a moment-the grotesque memory of it making it too hard for her to continue, then leans against the glass of the front door, slinking down to the ground, her head in her hands. "Veronica." She's shaking as she looks up at him, her tears mingling with the ice-cold rain. As she stands, droplets of water tinged with blood fall from the edges of her jacket. He doesn't miss the irony of it, and he's never been so scared in his life. She stumbles as they make their way to the car, tripping as she falls to the ground. When she doesn't get up again, the panic sets in. "C'mon, V. Get up. It's only a few more feet to the car." He's whispering soothing words and endearments, but they fall on deaf ears. A vacant stare has taken up residence in her eyes, and without warning he scoops her into his arms. With her head burrowed in his chest, she finally breaks, her sobs shaking them both, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. He fumbles a bit as they reach the car, but he refuses to set her down. Propping the passenger side door open with his shoulder, he settles her in, smoothing her down and cupping her face with his palm. A noise from the distance shakes him from his reverie and in an instant he's in the car, backing out of the driveway, pulling away from the shattered normalcy of their past. For all intents and purposes, they were never there. "Where do you want to go?" He asks after a few minutes, his voice breaking the silence. She turns to glance at him, almost surprised that he's no longer speaking in a whisper. For the moment they're out of danger.
"I don't…" Her voice is small and rusty, as if she's unused to using it. Surprised that she still can. "I don't know." Her eyes are filling with tears again, there are hundreds of unspoken questions in their depths and he reaches across the console, gripping her fingers lightly with his. "Shouldn't we-shouldn't we tell someone?" She asks softly, when a few minutes later they pull into the car park of her apartment complex. He shrugs slowly, and as she really looks at him for the first time in hours, she notices how haggard he looks-how scared. "Everything will be Okay, Logan. I promise." She whispers, unsure whether he can hear her, unsure if her words mean anything to him, even.
"Will it?" The sun has started to rise, spurts of pink streaking the sky, and neither has spoken in what feels like hours. He cuts her off before she can speak again, a cynical edge coloring his voice. "Because I have to say, the suicide of Neptune's First Son ranks pretty high up there in things that won't allow the world to ever be Okay again." Sighing, he ducks his head, leaning his brow against the cool plastic of the steering wheel, rubbing at his face with his hands. After a few moments he glances over at her, grimacing at the shell-shocked look on her face. "God, V, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Suddenly she's in his arms, sobbing the loss of Duncan's life into his chest. "You shouldn't have had to see that."
"Because you should have?" He pulls away slightly, looking down into her eyes, tracing the contours of her face with his fingers. She places the lightest of kisses against his lips, but he loses himself in her, afraid that if he stops kissing her he won't be able to survive. "It isn't your fault." She murmurs gently against his lips, and his grip on her tightens once before he lets go.
"Veronica, he was my best friend. I shouldn't have pushed him so hard. We shouldn't have-"
"We shouldn't have what? Told him that we knew? Asked him to get help? We didn't scream-we didn't yell, God, we didn't even accuse him, Logan. And he killed Lilly. He killed her." She's crying again now, making little hiccupping noises as she rests her head in her shaking hands.
"He shouldn't have died, Veronica." His tone is flat, his eyes empty. She nods once, sitting back and leaning her head against the seat.
"You're right, he shouldn't have. And maybe we should've handled it differently, but we didn't know he had a gun, Logan." Sighing, she pushes open her door, breathing deeply. "C'mon. Let's try and get some sleep. We need it." He's wordless as he follows her out of the car, gripping her hand tightly as if he's afraid that she'll disappear too.
"Oh God, honey is that you? Thank God." She can hear Keith's voice from inside the apartment as she turns back to face him, a wan smile touching her lips.
"Ready to deal with the fallout?" She whispers. He only tightens his fingers in response.
A/N: You hate me. I know you do. But I don't care. This is what they call a wrap. I didn't want to kill Duncan. Really, I didn't. I actually really really like Teddy Dunn, but it needed to be done. And don't get me wrong, I loved this story, but unlike my other one:ahem:ahem: The Other Woman (which I think you should all go read, haha), I didn't want to over saturate it. The answers to the pivotal questions are answered, and Logan and Veronica are together. I'm happy with it. I hope you are too.