Summary: It's a missing scene for episode 2x22. Veronica and Logan arrive at her empty apartment. (after the rooftop scene)
Spoiler: Well, obviously for 2x22
Warning: It's a little depressing, I guess.
Disclaimer: Rob, you're the man; everything belongs to him.
A HUGE thank you goes out there to my absolutely rocking and fabulous beta chaotic4life aka Steffi
oooooAnd Nothing Made Sense Anymore
Emptiness. That's all what's left in her life now. Cold, real emptiness.
When Veronica unlocks and slowly opens the door to her apartment, the place literally rubs it into her face. Each and everyone of the smallest, empty shadows is trying to taunt her and every single spot reminding her of her past – of happy family moments - and of a future she now will not have, not with him in her life.
Death. He is dead. Gone, forever.
The only constant in her messed up life had just vanished in a split second. A simple phone call changing her little universe and leaving her only with fiery sparkles, diving down the dark sky over Neptune.
Veronica just stands there, squeezing the doorknob tightly. She doesn't want to get into the apartment, having to face the cold reality that was lurking in there, embracing her. She couldn't. Her eyes are bloodshot and burn from the salty tears she has never stopped crying since they left the Neptune Grand, since they left the place where she lost her future. Lost everything she ever believed in.
Her gaze gets blurry again; her mind cruelly wandering back to the exact moment she heard the explosion behind her. A bright ball of fire dancing in the pitch-black night sky. Again she nearly has to vomit just thinking about the feeling as everything within her was ripped apart completely.
Realization. Stinging and sharper as a knife.
As the tears start to roll again and the sobs grow louder she wonders how long she can physically cry before her body will be too exhausted to form anymore tears. She is still standing in the doorframe, forcing her mind to take the next step.
One single step. Into the same apartment, but into another life.
Suddenly, she feels a gentle touch, a hand slowly rubbing her back in comforting circles. She knows who it is. He'd never left her since he'd came to her rescue. He had followed her as she'd hurried to Mac, he'd sat with her as the police had arrived and questioned her. Without another word, he had led her to his car, gently settling her broken body in the passenger seat and buckling the belt for her.
Comfort. When the world crashes down around yourself, you just need someone who pulls you through the debris.
Finally, Veronica takes the much needed step into the dark apartment and her gaze immediately rests on Keith's bedroom door. She squeezes her eyes shut, hearing Logan behind her, gently closing the door, before locking it again.
She realises that he was still not going to leave her, that he was not the one running away when you desperately need someone.
"You should rest," his voice just above a whisper. Although he was not crying, his voice is thickened with tears. In his entire life he has never seen her like this. She always made a point to conceal this part of her - so lost and so broken. She was the strong one. Emotions always in check and a perfect carved mask of strength on her face. But not tonight.
Rules. Tonight, the rules have changed.
Seeing her with the gun pointed at Beaver, he was shocked. Really shocked. At that point he was unaware of what could bring Veronica to consider such a move. This was the girl who had yelled at him about pulling a not-loaded gun. This was the person who always had very high moral standards when it came to violence. But then he had caught the look in her eyes and something within himself broke at the sight of the existent pain shadowing her gaze.
She had yelled something about Beaver killing her father and that he had been the one responsible for the bus crash. He couldn't quite process her words. They were too big and too much and he just stared at her, trying so hard to figure out the heavy meaning lying underneath them. And then, she had told him that Beaver was the one who had raped her. She had been violated in the most intrusive way possible and he finally snapped out of his stupor. Leaving her gaze for a second, he had turned his head towards Beaver and everything just clicked. He suddenly understood her, he understood why she was pointing a gun at Beaver and that she was more than ready to pull the trigger, and although he shared her emotions at this point, he also knew that she was not a killer and that he couldn't let her become one. He knew that she would never survive a life with the burden of knowledge, that she had killed someone.
And she had listened to him. Finally. For once.
Decisions. Sometimes just harder and more painful to make than living with them.
"You should get some rest," Logan repeats, still standing by the door, monitoring her every move. But Veronica doesn't answer and he was not sure if she just ignored his suggestion or heard him at all.
Instead, she slowly moves towards the kitchen and notices her father's coffee-cup resting on the sink, happily waiting for his return. Timidly she reaches for it, holding the cup in front of her face, her fingers tracing the imprinted words 'Best Father in The World'. She bites her lower lip hard as another flood of tears starts to pave its way down her cheeks. Suddenly, her hand begins to shake uncontrollably and the hold on the mug slips.
It feels like an eternity before the cup connects with the wooden floor and bursts into a mess of porcelain pieces. She oddly thinks of Beaver and the similarity of the scene. Just a simple moment of carelessness, just one single incident and someone's world is shattered into a million pieces.
Falling. Sometimes you can't enjoy the feeling of being free, because you just have to prepare yourself for the hard landing.
"Veronica," Logan whispers concerned, leaving the spot at the door.
Finally, she turns around, leaving the sight of a broken piece with the word 'father' behind her. As her eyes meet his, she breathes in heavily. He is looking at her so tenderly and lovingly, that she has a hard time remembering when he or someone else had looked at her like this.
Fading. A feeling that just overtakes your body completely.
Everything seems to fade away from her, from her life; But not Logan. He was right there with her, not leaving her side. Her very own knight in shining armour. Slowly, she takes some shaky steps towards him and rests her forehead against his chest. She can feel the warmth of his skin radiating underneath his t-shirt as it soaks up the wet paths on her face.
One of his hands reaches up, smoothly stroking her long blond locks while his other arm pulls her small trembling body closer to his. Gladly she leans into him, seeking comfort, never wanting to let go of him again. On the roof she had been in shock. She was aware what had happened, but her mind was not able process the information right away. But now, as she had entered the apartment and watched her father's mug bursting into tiny pieces, the ultimate reality slapped her cold across the face once again.
"Shhh…" Logan whispers in her ear, before pulling up her legs and gathering her in a strong hold, lifting her. She immediately adjusts the position of her arms, now tightly locked behind his neck, her eyes closed and her head resting heavily on his right shoulder.
She is aware that he is carrying her to the couch and not into her room and her mind wanders back to the time they were sitting in the exact same spot. Not when she was comforting him after the fight with the PCHers, but when she was breaking his heart.
Loneliness. Sometimes it can be your friend but also your worst enemy.
Everything seems to be forgotten. Every single fight and every small insult they exchanged over the last year seems to be completely erased from their history in the harsh light of reality.
And that is the nice part of them being epic. They fight, they hate, but in the very end, when something really important comes along and something really matters, they always come through for each other.
Epic, only four letters, but having such a tremendous impact on their lives.
As Logan settles them on the couch, carefully not to break the hold on her, she pulls her head away from his shoulder and searches his eyes.
Neither of them speak, just a silent exchange of searching stares and heavy breaths, but this much needed conversation so much louder and much more intense than any spoken syllable.
Veronica nervously chews on her cheek as his soft lips gently brush against her forehead. She resists the urge to shut her eyes again, not wanting to break the intense look of his eyes, burning into her own. Not wanting to loose the warm feeling spreading all over her body as she registers the love and devotion in his gaze.
Normalcy. What is the meaning of being normal? And who has the right to press the word into a certain pattern?
Normal. That's all she had asked for a year ago. A normal life with a normal boyfriend and a normal family. Now, she has no idea how she would be able to even make it to the next day without falling apart completely. Falling, like her father from the sky.
And the tears start to roll again and the devouring feeling of loss and uncertainty overtakes every fibre of her body. Her chest catches painfully every time she breathes, and once again she feels strong hands stroking her back and from far away she registers Logan's soothing voice, trying to calm her, pressing her body protectively to his chest.
But her father was still dead and he would never come back again.
And nothing made sense anymore.