Title: Sleep
Rating: K
Summary: Futurefic… one-shot. Logan found it comforting to watch her sleep. He had done it almost every night since they got back together.
Spoilers: All 3 Seasons
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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She was sleeping.
He curled one lock of long blonde hair around his index finger as he watched her softly breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Logan found it comforting to watch her sleep. He had done it almost every night since they got back together.
They had lost each other in college. She told him that she wanted him out of her life for good when he attacked Piz. He tried to make amends for it, by hitting Gory when he threatened her. Gory promised to take revenge, though. And he did, two months into sophomore year, when one of his goons ran over Logan with a car. She had come to him then, while he was lying in a hospital bed, to see how he was.
He wanted to tell her loved her.
He wanted her to tell him the same.
But he was hurt and angry and scared and tired. He told her to get out. That this time he was done with her. To stay away from him. Forever. He watched her leave with tears streaming down her face. When she halted at the door, he almost called her back. But a moment later she was gone and he willed himself to stop loving her.
Those three years were much worse than all of high school combined. This time there was no angry insults. No slashed tires. No spiteful rumors. He didn't hate her this time. He couldn't. They just avoided each other at all costs. And if they did manage to end up in the same room, it was just cold indifference. They were both stubborn enough to keep it up.
Eventually he began dating again, though the relationships never lasted long. And none of them were ever blonde.
He knew she dated a few guys, but he didn't find out more than that. He told himself he didn't care. It was not his problem if she got hurt anymore.
After they graduated, she left Neptune. She went out into the world and became an FBI agent.
He moved to Los Angeles. His father may have been the biggest bastard that ever lived, but he did make sure that Logan knew the industry. It came in handy when he opened his own production company and began producing multi-million blockbusters.
Then there was a murder on one of his sets. Cara Marie McBrian, a beautiful twenty-something who was famous for her roles as the buxom love interest and her real life partying ways.
It was a high profile case, almost as well-known as the case of Lilly Kane. The irony of the murder being on Aaron Echoll's son's set was not lost on the media. So the local cops called in the big dogs.
He had thought that it could not get any worse. His day. His year. His life.
Then he saw her. They introduced her to him as Agent Mars. He didn't know if he should laugh or scream. Or kiss her. He wondered if they would make it through this investigation without her accusing him of murder.
She interviewed him in monotone, no inflection in her voice to suggest she ever even knew him.
He definitely felt like screaming.
The case had been solved fairly quickly. It had been one of Cara's friends. Apparently Cara stole her shoes. The friend told the cops it was an accident. They were arguing and she accidently pushed Cara into the faulty set equipment that had electrocuted her.
She had been killed over a pair of stilettos.
He felt like laughing. Then he remembered that Cara died and he had actually like her, even if she was a bimbo.
Afterward, she came to his office. She apologized for how she had acted. She told him they would have taken her off the case if they found out she knew him. It would have been a conflict of interests.
He kissed her then.
They started out slow. Going on nice, normal dates. He even won her a teddy bear in a dart throwing booth at the pier. It only cost him eighty-five dollars.
Ten months into their relationship he asked her if she wanted to live with him. She told him there was no way in hell she was moving into that ostentatious mansion of his. He smirked.
It wasn't a no.
He bought a slightly smaller, but still far too large for her taste, house. He told her that this was as low as he was going to go because he had an image to keep up.
She moved in the next day.
From then on he always tried to stay awake until she fell asleep. He would pull his arm tighter around her, enjoying the feel of her back against his chest. He would lean his face into her hair to smell the strawberry and crème scent shampoo that he would forever associate with her. And he would listen to her soft snores, all the while thinking that one day he was going to set up a tape recorder on their bedside table so that she would never again be able to deny it.
Then he would drift to sleep, safe in the knowledge that she was there. That he had not lost her again.
Now, as he looks down at her in her relaxed state, he slips his hand into his pocket. His fingers brush against the cool ring. It had taken him weeks to pick out. It was outrageously expensive, with a mammoth-sized rock, but it was perfect.
He was going to give it to her when she woke up.
"Logan," a quiet voice called, dragging him out of his reverie.
He turned toward the door and stared up into Keith Mars' red-rimmed eyes.
"The doctors should be in here any minute." Logan nodded and turned back to gaze onto her pale face, trying to ignore the respirator. Veronica always used to tell him that she hated when he was right because he would wear this self-satisfied smirk that pissed her off to no end. He told her that she just could not deal with being wrong, and then he smirked as he walked away.
For once, he wished he had been wrong. The biggest fight they ever had was on the day he told her he wanted her to quit the FBI. He argued that it was too dangerous. They were not in Neptune and she was not playing detective for high school kids who lost their wallets anymore. He told her he could not stand it when she went to work in the morning because he always felt the fear in the pit of his stomach. That this was finally going to be the day when she didn't come home.
She yelled at him that he was just doing the same thing he had always done. That he was trying to control her. She packed a suitcase and moved in with a coworker.
He held out for five days. Then he called her. He left hours worth of apologies on her voicemail. Finally, she came back. They never spoke about it again.
The call came a month and a half later. He broke so many laws speeding to the hospital that he was shocked he didn't get pulled over by the cops that night. It was a good thing too. He probably would have just kept on going until he got arrested.
She was in the middle of surgery by the time he arrived. They told him she and her partner had been chasing a suspect. He shot at them and hit her. She was alive, but there was a bullet lodged in her brain. They were not sure she would survive the night.
She had, though. For three weeks, she managed to hold on. Visitors came and went. Wallace, Mac, Weevil, Piz, Parker, her coworkers, various people she had helped over the years. Even Dick, though he was there more to support Logan than anything else. Logan and Keith barely left, going only to eat and change clothes.
After three weeks, even they had lost hope. The doctors were positive. There was no chance she was going to wake up. Veronica was brain dead.
Logan pulled the ring out of his pocket. She would have complained that it was too big. That she would not be able to walk down the street without someone trying to mug her. But he knew that the deep down girly part, the one she was always trying to suppress, would have loved it.
He leaned over and slipped it onto her ring finger. He had never been traditional. He didn't need a ceremony. In his heart, he would always consider her as his wife
"Spanning years and continents," he whispered in her ear. "We'll see each other again."
He kissed her one last time. Then he walked out the door. Away from Keith's tearstained face. Away from the rhythmic beeping the monitored the heart that rightfully belonged to him. Away from the white-washed walls that should never have encased her.
He told himself that he was just giving Keith a last moment with his daughter.
But he knew he was running away.
He didn't care.
He would rather be a coward than have his last memory be the one of her dying before his eyes. A death he could not protect her from. Save her from.
Logan had told her their love was epic, with ruined lives and bloodshed.
He hadn't meant hers.
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A/N: Sorry. I came up with it while walking my dog.