A.N.: Hey guys! This is another one-shot set in the amazing CP Coulter's Dalton-verse. It's still Jogan, and set after the events of Episode 26 (which, by the way, was pretty much the most wonderfully-written and emotionally painful chapter ever.) I hope you guys like this one! :)

One Day

It's a beautiful day, all clear skies and bright colors. Everything looks vibrant, bright, and there's even the cliché gentle breeze blowing around. Logan looks around at the beautifully-landscaped park, taking in the verdant grounds, colorful flowers, and various-colored cars lined up on the road. The world's never looked more alive than it does now.

It's the worst fucking day they could've picked for a funeral.

The turnout's huge—family, friends, Dalton staff, all seeing off the boy who'd died saving everyone else. The boy who'd simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time, but hadn't hesitated. The boy who, in hindsight, probably never stood a chance against that psycho Adam Clavell.

Logan looks at the people standing around him. Beside him, Derek's standing stoically, gauze still on his head. Kurt and Blaine are holding hands, as are Reed and Shane. The Windsors, Stuarts, Hanovers who were part of the whole mess are all huddled together with red eyes, all staring at the black coffin that's carrying someone they know, someone they care about. Everyone looks like they still can't believe it, like they're still trapped in that burning building and waiting for someone to rescue them from that nightmare.

He shakes his head again. In some ways, none of them stands a chance against the damage that's been caused.

Someone's speaking, but the voice sounds distant. He took his meds today, but it's probably not the reason why he doesn't feel physically present right now. It's been days—maybe even a week or two?—but sometimes he feels like he's still there in the third floor, inhaling fumes and smoke and trying not to die. He doesn't really remember how they got out—everything became hazy after that explosion—and the moments after come in fragmented images that don't quite connect. Sometimes he sees them when he's asleep, but those images never quite come together, and frankly it's a lot better that way.

It's just too much of a nightmare to take.

Logan glances a little to one side and sees almost everyone openly crying by now, even Derek. It makes him aware that he hasn't cried at all. Not when he found out the news, not during the service, not when the Warblers got up to sing and barely finished because everyone was having a hard time singing and crying at the same time. He doesn't feel like crying. Some part of him feels numb (and god, he's never welcomed it more than now), but mostly he just feels exhausted.

He looks to his other side, at the empty space where Julian should've been standing at, and hopes that he's feeling so much lighter than Logan does right now.

He hangs back after the whole thing is over. Everyone's headed back to their cars, and a few have already started driving away, but he just stays where he is and watches them walk. He's not really sure what he's still doing here, but he doesn't feel like he can leave.

Stuck. He's stuck here. Out of guilt, out of sadness, out of something else he can't place. Whatever it is, his feet won't make the necessary movements, and honestly, he's not sure if he wants them to.

Julian grips the steering wheel of the car he's been sitting in this whole time even tighter. The universe always seems to have a problem with him trying to leave; it always finds a way to screw it up. Story of my life, he thinks.

He glances at that black coffin. It's pretty far, so it looks more like a tiny black box than anything, but it's enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his stomach churn. That should be me. I caused this. If I wasn't so stupid, maybe...

There's a sudden sound of a door slamming, and for the first time he tears his eyes away from the coffin—

—and comes face to face with Logan, who's now sitting in the passenger's side.

They stare at each other for a moment before turning away. Julian can't believe this is happening. The pain that's been blooming in his chest all day is starting to grow, and the air feels a lot thicker. The silence that stretches on is awkward and uncomfortable, and he has no idea what to do now.

I shouldn't have come here.

"You should really lock your doors next time," Logan suddenly says conversationally. It's the first time they've spoken to each other since the incident, and for some reason, it makes Julian remember how Logan had reacted when he'd told him he loved him.

(The thought makes him feel sicker.)

They're still not looking at each other, both still looking straight ahead at the almost-empty road, but the way Logan's talking, he may as well have said that the weather looked lovely.

Julian doesn't say anything at first. And then, he says the only thing he can. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I saw you," Logan replies. "You rolled your window down for awhile, and I saw you watching." Julian almost groans because really? This is when Logan starts being perceptive about his surroundings?

Logan suddenly looks at him, and without really meaning to, Julian looks back—big mistake. "Why didn't you get out of the car?"

Julian actually laughs hollowly at that one. "Sure, Logan, because I could just waltz in there like the rest of you without any problem. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but generally at funerals, people don't like to see the person who got the guy killed in the first place anywhere near them."

"You know, it's not—"

"I swear, if someone tells me that it's not my fault one more time, I'm going to lose it," Julian snaps angrily. "If I hadn't been such an idiot and thought that I could handle it, we wouldn't all be in this mess right now. Put yourself in my shoes and tell me honestly that you wouldn't be thinking the exact same thing I am."

The blond says nothing to that, just leans back in his seat. Julian crumples back into his own seat, suddenly tired. After all this time, it's Logan who's actually seeking him out, the one who's trying to get through him, and it makes Julian feel terrible (and yes, the irony is deliciously killing.) He wishes the world would stand still for awhile, just stop and let him be. He hasn't felt at peace with himself since everything went down, and he's afraid that if he can't rid himself of Logan, he never will be.

"Get out," Julian whispers, his voice coming out hoarse, hands cold and clammy. "Please, Lo—just—get out. I can't right now."

"You'll have to talk to someone sometime," Logan begins, but Julian cuts him off by saying, "It doesn't have to be you."

He doesn't miss the way Logan winces at that. "Julian—"

"Why are you doing this?" Julian suddenly asks him, searching Logan's face for something, anything that'll make him understand. "Why'd you come here, why are you pretending like you care now? Is it because of some misguided sense of guilt? Because some lunatic held me at knifepoint and forced me to tell you the one thing you were never supposed to know? Whatever your motives, Logan, I don't need this right now. Leave."

But Logan stays where he is. It's not that surprising—he's always been so irritatingly stubborn. But a strange look passes his face, like he's remembering it too—like that memory hurts him just as much as it hurts Julian. "Don't shut me out now, Julian," he says softly. "After last time—just don't. You have no idea—when you told me you were in love with me—"

"You don't need to explain, Logan, the look of disgust on your face and the way you kept saying, 'Shut up, this can't be true' tells me everything I need to know," Julian replies steadily, trying not to let that lump in his throat turn into tears because damn it, he will not cry in front of Logan Wright over this. He can't.

He's already showed Logan how weak, how breakable he is. He really doesn't need to give the blond any more chances to break his heart even more.

"Damn it, Jules, listen to me!" Logan suddenly says, voice thick and those eyes that have always been Julian's undoing looking at him earnestly. "I never—look, I know I'm a bastard to you most of the time, but I never wanted you to hurt this much because of me. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I didn't see it before, I'm sorry that you had to go through this, and I'm sorry for reacting the way I did!"

Julian groans aloud at that one because, he's sorry? Seriously? Way to dig the knife in deeper, Wright. "Just stop, okay?" he says, half exasperated, half pleading. "Stop...saying these words and acting like you care and like there's any way to save this twisted kind of friendship we have. Just...no, Logan. I was going to leave for a reason. I need to get away from you, because after everything that's happened, me staying wouldn't be fair to either of us."

"And what if I want you to stay?" Logan asks fiercely, eyes flashing. "I know you're convinced that everyone would be better off without you here, but in case you forgot, you're talking to Logan Wright, the most selfish bastard on the planet."

Logan's eyes soften slightly then, and in a much quieter voice, he says, "And since I'm so selfish, I don't want you to leave. Because it'll mess me up even more if you do."

Julian's practically holding his breath at this point. It all sounds so selfish and self-centered, yeah, but it's Logan and he knows him well enough to know what he's actually saying. I care. Stay.

"You need us, Jules," Logan adds in that same quiet tone. "And we need you. I need you. When I was drugged up, I could still hear you, feel your presence—and I know that means something. What it is, I don't know yet, but I do know it's important. All we've got is each other, and call me insane, but I'm not letting go of that so easily." When Julian opens his mouth, Logan cuts in, "Just...think about it. Please."

Julian lets out a shuddering breath, sinking as far into the car seat as he can go. He can feel the tears stinging his eyes, the heavy weight of tragedy pressing him down, the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

And then out of the corner of his eye, he sees Logan still looking at him, and he figures that maybe he can take just a little bit more.

(It's always been him. Always because of him. He knows how stupid he's being, but maybe that's the point of love. To give everything you can till you're left with stupidity and a promise that maybe confessions don't always have to end with tragedies and a more broken heart than before you opened your mouth.)

Silence. They're the only car left in the cemetery now, and it's amazing how quickly time seems to pass outside while inside, it's like a slow burn. "You think it's ever going to end?" Julian asks eventually in a shaky sort of voice. "The nightmares, the guilt, the fear?"

Logan shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "God, I don't know. Maybe. I hope. But if it doesn't...at least you don't have to go through it alone this time."

He gives Julian a direct look, and the actor can't find it in him to look away. If he's honest with himself, he's never really been able to. With softening eyes, Logan adds, "I don't...I don't know yet how to deal with you being in love with me. It's a huge revelation, and I need to think. But I'm not going anywhere, Julian. That you can be sure of."

They don't smile at each other. But that look says everything anyway.

It's really kind of ridiculous how their most meaningful conversation to date just happened inside a car in the memorial park, but maybe that's just the way the world works. If there are two people and so many things that need to be said between them, then eventually everything will come out in the open, to hell with the venue and everything else.

"We should get going," Logan says after awhile.

"Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?"

Julian's surprised when Logan shakes his head. "Nah. Just drive. Let's go find someplace that feels even the slightest bit normal."

Julian knows that they both don't believe in what Logan's saying. After all this, nothing's ever going to be normal again—at least, not in the way it was before. But even though it sucks, there's always tomorrow. And another after that. Second lives and second chances—maybe one day he'll finally get around to liking that idea.

And as Julian starts the ignition, he can't help but hope that maybe one day everything will start hurting a little less. Maybe one day, everything might actually get better.

One day...

There would be time for healing. Time to talk, time to understand, time to recover. They are here, they are alive, and as long as that doesn't change, there will be time for everything.

But for now, they simply drive away.