Disclaimer: Don't own them. Just LoVe them.
Notes: Angst warning.

THIS CHAPTER: In the aftermath of the bus crash, Logan thinks Veronica is dead.

Pick up pick up pick up- oh god Veronica please pick up. Why isn't she picking up her phone? She can't be gone, she can't be, this isn't happening.

At the sound of Veronica's voicemail, yet again, Logan let out an agonised wail and threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and snapped in half, clattering to the floor. He didn't care about the phone, he was simply sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing. The bus... the cliff... and Veronica. She was on that bus, she'd gone over the cliff thinking he hated her.

It took an hour for him to pull himself together. He untangled his limbs from each other, red marks lining his skin where he'd been pressed into the floor. He dragged himself into the shower, numbed. Even having the water on full heat couldn't make him feel anything. Towel wrapped lazily around his waist, he moved back into his room, his foot knocking the pieces of phone on the floor, sending them across the floor. He stared at the halves. Still couldn't bring himself to care. It didn't matter that his father could possibly get out of jail and belt him for needlessly destroying his property.

A flash of yellow attracted his attention out the window. His X-Terra stood, waiting, beckoning him. He had a sudden need for air, his throat was constricted, like there was something standing on his chest. His lungs couldn't gather enough oxygen, and he tried swallowing. Nothing. Hurriedly, he threw on some clothing, snatched up his keys, and bolted from his house. He didn't worry about the door that stood ajar behind him, the maid would take care of it.

The interior of the SUV was cool, comforting compared to the suffocation of his room. He slid into the driver's seat and started up the car, not even bothering to pull his seat belt over himself. The car started with a jolt and he sped towards the gate, unknowing of where he was headed but driving mindlessly all the same.

Before he knew it, he'd shown up in front of Veronica's apartment at Sunset Cliffs. He sat in his car, staring up at her front door, horror and pain and grief building up in his heart until he was bent over, bawling his eyes out. He knew it was uncharacteristic of him to be crying, but he'd lost the second love of his life in the last year. And staring at that unassuming front door, the one he'd seen multiple times he'd shown up to see his girlfriend, it brought everything rushing into his mind, breaking down the walls he'd worked so hard over the past few weeks to construct.

A shy knock on his window startled him into reality. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he spun around, stopping short at the petite blonde watching him through his tinted window. He swallowed hard. He had to be imagining this, she'd... she had been on the bus. Hadn't she? She hadn't answered his calls. She was waiting there for him to do something, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to move, she rolled her shoulders and stepped around the front of the car to jump in to the passenger door. It squeaked as she pulled it shut, enclosing the two of them inside.

She met his eyes, her own rimmed in red, and gave him a soft smile. His hands lifted, shaking and trembling, to touch her face, to ensure she was real, she was there, she was still alive. At the feeling of her warm flesh under his fingers, he lunged over his console, wrapping her in his arms, shuddering with a mixture of relief and despair.

"I thought I'd lost you. I thought... I thought you went over. I thought you were dead."

He felt her shake her head against his neck, her arms tightening around him. "No, I'm not dead. I wasn't on the bus. It left the gas station without me, Weevil drove me back. I wasn't on the bus."

"I don't want to lose you. Ever."

"You won't, Logan. You won't."

"What about Duncan?"

"Doesn't matter. It was always you. It took a near death experience for me to realise that it's always been you."