Note: So it turns out that my sis has this wicked great beta to fix stuff for her, so here's the chap after it's been fixed up. Oh yeah, the beta's Starcrossedsparrow (so thanks if you're reading). I had no idea that you writers did that for each other, but it's pretty cool that you do b/c my sis is almost as bad with grammar as me…and she likes to right, lol, I think it's hilarious but whatever! She is good at it though if you ask me, I'll give her that. Although listening to her dictate this to me makes it somewhat less fun. So I'll stop blabbing now and let you get to the actual story. Thanks! Nadirah (Junebug18's sis). Oh, and Merry Christmas!
It could easily be said that the next several hours felt surreal to Logan. He watched as the EMTs loaded Veronica into the back of the ambulance, zipped into a body bag. Logan had fought them very hard on that. He hadn't wanted them to put her in it. Finally, two deputies had to restrain him while the EMTs worked. He just felt as if any moment she'd wake up and everything would be okay again.
Any moment she'll wake up and come back to me. She can't be dead. She can't leave me like this. Oh, God, it's my fault! Please just wake up! Why are you scaring me like this? Wake up! Veronica Mars can't die. She just can't!
Logan was so preoccupied with Veronica, he was barely aware of the EMTs cleaning up his father's nasty bruises and scrapes before Aaron was carted off in handcuffs by the police. They had tried to work on Logan, but the horrible pain he felt from the beating and burns were turning into a private haven from the agony of watching them with Veronica's body. He liked the hurt, he wanted it to hurt.
He rode in the ambulance, staring at that horrible black bag the whole way. The EMTs kept telling him that he needed medical attention. Smoke inhalation, third degree burns, open welts that needed some stitches. He didn't care. He wished it were him in that body bag. Out of all people the world decided to take from him, why did it have to be Veronica? The one person that he couldn't go on without. The one person he would never be able to get over. He prayed to whatever God was up there for death.
Logan could only watch as the various people who also loved her ran into the hospital to hear the news: her dad, Wallace, that Mac girl, Duncan, Meg. Logan just kept his seat and stared at the wall.
Finally, someone noticed his state of shock and found a doctor to start check on him. The nursing staff gave him stitches and made him breathe through an oxygen mask; they slathered something on the burns around his ankles, legs, and hand. He didn't really take notice. What he really wanted was for someone to just take pity on him and shoot him to end his misery. But no one ever did.
Some of the deputies and Keith tried to talk to him, but he was more or less unresponsive. Trina turned up and the doctors released Logan into her care. Logan figured that she would probably be named his legal guardian. Another reason to wish for death. She went on and on in the car on the way back about their poor father as he stared out the window; he was as far away from caring about what she said as he could get.
By seven o'clock that night he was wasted beyond any sensibility and sitting on the edge of the Coronado Bridge with his feet dangling over the edge, alone with his alcohol-blurred thoughts.
It's my fault she's dead. I might as well of killed her with my own two hands. He killed her. On purpose. Why? Why would anyone want to hurt Veronica?
His cell phone rang and he answered it before thinking, willing it to somehow be her. Wallace.
What in the Hell is he calling me for?
"Logan, where are you?"
He started to laugh uncontrollably, almost slipping from his perch as he did so. "Hell," came his riposte. And with that, he threw the phone into the water below, intending to follow it.
He could still hear Veronica's teasing voice in his head as if she were right there. "Dress up was always more Lilly's thing, cookies were mine."
But they're both dead. Both killed. Both murdered.
The image of Veronica laying in his bed next to him flooded his mind. Telling him things she'd never told anyone before, listening as he did the same. The feel of her soft skin as he held her close to him. The sound she made in the back of her throat when he kissed her. The look on her face as she slept if she were having a nightmare. But it was his nightmare now and he was living it. Living in a hell that he only knew one way to get out of.
He'd finally moved on after Lilly died. But this was it. He didn't want to move on any more. He didn't want anyone else. Ever. He just wanted to make the pain stop. If he couldn't have her back, then he would jump. Follow his mother into the watery deep. There was no reason not to anymore. Logan stood up and balanced himself on the edge, walking along it like a tightrope walker. A very clumsy and drunken tightrope walker. And he heard a laugh as he began to jump, the sound of Veronica laughing as if to welcome him into oblivion. He began to feel strangely at peace as he fell through the air. But as soon as he hit the water the laughing and peace was replaced by another kind of sound. A voice. Lilly's voice.
"Veronica's waiting for you, Logan". She giggled. "Come and see."
He followed it. Pain, beeping, more pain. A harsh white light over head. What in the Hell … wait, was this Hell? The beeping continued. He blinked his eyes in effort to get used to the light. He could easily tell it was a hospital room and no one was in it but himself. So his attempted at suicide hadn't worked. He wasn't sure how he could have survived it. But he was pretty upset that he had. He didn't want to be alive. He didn't want to live. He had no one.
A man came into the room. Mr. Mars. Maybe he wouldn't have to try to kill himself again. Maybe Keith would do it for him. He hoped. Keith Mars continued into the room until he was right beside Logan. He sat down in a chair beside the bed.
"I want to thank you for saving my daughter, Logan."
Logan's entire body twitched at the words. He was hallucinating. It wasn't possible. Veronica couldn't still be alive. He'd watched her die, seen her body be zipped up into a bag. But then a realization hit him… a memory of pain at the back of his head. His father had hit him back pretty hard. Was it possible that maybe...?
"I don't know what I would do without my little girl. She means everything to me. Do you understand that, Logan?"
Logan stared at the man long and hard. "Yeah, I do."
"Not many people would have gone back into a burning building to get her. Why?" He paused, staring at the boy. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
Logan slowly nodded, as if it were a secret. "Is she okay?"
"She's a bit beat up. No worse than you. But they said if she'd have breathed in much more smoke she would have died. She's down the hall resting. Or, well she would be resting if she weren't too busy panicking over you. At least now I can tell her you woke up." Keith's tone darkened. "So I guess you don't know about Aaron."
Logan's expression tightened. "He tried to kill her."
Keith stared at the boy with pity in his eyes and explained it all to him. Logan still didn't love the world when Keith was done talking. But he wasn't ready to die.