Disconnected

© KES

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me… they're all UPN and Rob Thomas's property.

I wrote this back in November, so obviously there aren't any spoilers.

He didn't recognize himself anymore.

Maybe he looked the same. Had the same hair, the same eyes, the same clothes, but the person he had become wasn't him. Maybe some twisted version of himself, but not who he used to be.

It was 3:34 in the morning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept completely through the night.

That was a lie. He remembered exactly when he used to sleep like a baby. He just hated thinking about it.

Thinking about her.

Because time doesn't heal. Anyone that thinks otherwise hasn't been through this.

Lilly was everything to him. And since she left him, the perfect life he had disappeared with her.

Okay, things were never perfect. His dad was still a bastard then. His mom was still the most ignorant person on the planet.

But he had Duncan. The real Duncan. Not the Duncan so changed by anti-whatevers that he didn't react to anything anymore.

And Veronica.

What could he say about Veronica? Lilly would be proud of the way she is now. Tough. Cynical. Doing what she could to figure out what exactly happened to Lilly. She was the only one with the guts to admit that Koontz couldn't have possibly killed Lilly. He thought the rest of them were too afraid to speak up because that meant the killer was one of them.

He was an ass to her and he knew it. But she was just too much like Lilly now. It was painful to be near her.

3:42. Time never went by quickly anymore. It dragged by, each day reminding him that Lilly wasn't coming back. But it never got easier.

The microwave beeped quietly. He pulled out the cup and took a deep swig of the hot chocolate; it was still boiling hot, but it didn't matter. It wasn't like he felt much of anything anymore.

He set the cup down softly after adding a bit of peppermint Schnopps. Lilly used to love hot cocoa. Granted, he was surprised she didn't come down from her place in heaven (yeah, he knows, a joke. Lilly in heaven.) and swat him in the head for making it in the microwave. 'Lazy,' she'd say. 'You know it tastes so much better when you make it the right way.'

And she was right, of course. It did taste better. But he couldn't do it that way because it tasted like her. All those late nights of hot cocoa and kissing. He wanted to think of her, to remember her, but he didn't want to taste her.

He gave up on the chocolate and settled for the liquor. He took a long sip, trying hard to push memories of Lilly away but they still came, no matter what he did.

At four in the morning, he finally gave up. He picked up his cell phone and dialed the familiar numbers.

"Logan," she sighed exasperatedly, "You can't keep calling me. I'm dead."

He shook his head, "Don't say that."

"You're not stupid. You know it."

"I can ignore it," he mumbled, draining the rest of the bottle.

"Or you could face it," she said softly. She didn't take this tone with anyone but him. She had patience for him she'd never had for anyone before him.

"I don't want to," he whispered. "You love me, right?"

"More than anything," she replied.

"And you miss me?"

"Just a little less than you miss me."

"Less?" he sounded offended.

"Well, yeah… I can at least admit that I'm dead."

"Stop saying that."

"Yes dear," she said, but he could hear the sarcasm in her voice. God, he missed her.

"What am I supposed to do? How can I fix this?" he inquired.

She didn't respond. What could she say? There wasn't anything he could do. He knew it; she didn't have to say anything.

"I love you, Lilly," he told her.

"I love you too," she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

He set his phone down on the counter, next to his empty bottle and coffee mug. He walked away, ignoring his phone's final words:

"This line has been disconnected…"