Sorry this took forever, but as we get closer to the end it gets harder to write.

Chapter 19

Lifelong

All he can think about is how he should have seen it coming. She's leaning against the opposite wall with her eyes closed and he's holding onto to her engagement ring. He should have chosen the square cut, too many sharp edges biting into his palm.

She doesn't always wear the ring. She forgets it on her nightstand and by the bathroom sink. One morning he found it in his sock drawer. It drives Nadine crazy because it means there's constant speculation over the state of their relationship. She's suggested super gluing the thing to Veronica's finger several times. It doesn't bother him. Not really. He knows Veronica better then she'd like, and he expected her to have issues with the ring. He'd expected that given time she would work through it. Marriage was scary, but being married to him didn't really sound all that intimidating.

But now he understands. She hadn't been working through it. She'd been freaking out and he hadn't noticed. He'd only realized when he came home from a week in Paris and all of her clothes were out of their closet. Her graduation is a week away and apparently their future plans have become drastically different. As in she's planning on moving across the country without him. He's not exactly taking the news well.

Her eyes are swollen but he hasn't seen a tear and he can't help thinking that she has the consistency of sand. The tighter you try to hold on the easier it all slips out. She looks at him, at his fingers drumming on the wall. Wallace had helped her pack up her stuff. She'd never felt like more of a coward then when she was ducking his calls while separating their possessions. "I just don't see another alternative," she whispers more to herself then to him.

It was something about the FBI. He'd registered that much before he stopped paying attention. All he can see is that the mantle over the fireplace is bare. It used to be filled with crap she'd bought whenever she came to visit him. Cheap knick knacks she bought in gift shops in between flights to remember all the places they had been together. His throat constricts but he manages to keep his tone flat, "There are a million alternatives Veronica. This one is just the easiest for you."

He can see the self righteous clench of her jaw, and she juts out her chin when she replies softly, "You know that's not true."

"Because we're so big on truth now? Please, not even taking into account the twist ending move out, you accepted my proposal V, you've lied since the fucking beginning," he volleys the impressive reply back almost instantly and is rewarded with her visible flinch.

"I can't take it anymore Logan. I can't even walk outside. I can't do anything without it being some sort of international incident. I don't want to spend the rest of my life being stalked," it comes out like an explosion, and she's left wide eyed and out of breath.

He can't think of a reply for a few seconds because he feels like he's been punched in the stomach, and what he does manage is dangerously quiet, "My life isn't some surprise. You knew what you signed up for."

"But I didn't know what I wanted. Not really," she replies, "And now I do. The FBI is what I want more then anything. It's my dream. And I can have it or you."

"And that's it," he challenges

"It has to be," she looks away and blinks to keep herself from dissolving, "I'm sor-"

"Just leave Veronica," he says with a shake of his head, kicking off the wall and heading towards the hallway, "We both know you're dying too."

"Logan-" she starts, and she has no idea what she could say. There is nothing to make this better.

He spins, leveling her with the full force of his newfound indifference, "You want out? You got it. But I'm not going to clear your conscious too." He tosses the ring towards her, and it skids across the hardwood floor until it runs into the toe of her boot, "See you around Mars."

9:00 pm Friday September 7

She beats them back to the hotel, she knows because she can't spot an asshole canary yellow Xterra anywhere in the hotel parking lot. Instead of being a nervous wreck in the lobby for hours on end she decides to drop some of her things off in her room and then go face the second man she least wants to talk to.

Alicia answers the door, still in her azure party dress. Like Mac there isn't a trace of anything but sympathy on her face. "Hey baby," she murmurs, wrapping her stepdaughter in a hug, "how you feeling?"

"You know," Veronica smiles wryly as she lays her head on Alicia's shoulder, "In my head I pictured the night going differently."

"I think it's safe to say we all did kid," Keith replies as he appears from the bathroom. He's not wearing his jacket or his shoes, and it makes him look infinitely less intimidating. She really just wants him to say all of it's okay.

Alicia gives Veronica a pat on the back and then excuses herself. She kicks off her own shoes on the way to the bathroom. Veronica and her father are left staring at each other. "Dad-" she begins.

"I know there are other things Veronica," Keith sighs as he takes a seat on the bed, Veronica crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall across from him, "I know you don't tell me every detail of your life. That something besides Lily must have happened to you in high school. It's hard not to notice it in the looks you and your friends give each other. In the way Logan will touch like you're more delicate then glass. I get that there are parts of your life I will never understand."

"It's just because," she starts, glancing away and biting her lip, "It's because I love you. I don't ever want to hurt you if I can help it."

"I can accept that you keep things from me," he nods. He really can, standing in that tent as that boy had yelled at his daughter, sitting in the front seat of the cop car as he had tried to explain himself, Keith had finally understood the reason he couldn't expect full disclosure from his daughter. Even glancing at the side of her face as she'd turned to glance at her friend after Logan tackled Jackson had been enough to break his heart, "But I cannot accept that you'll spend your whole life keeping secrets from everyone. There has to be someone Veronica, at least one person that you are your whole self with. I need that for you."

"Dad, Logan and I-" she starts, she doesn't know what she and Logan are. They are certainly not together, but they have never truly been apart either.

"It doesn't have to be Logan," he shakes his head, because he wants her to be happy no matter what and no matter who, "It doesn't. Although to be honest kid, I wanted you to marry him. I want you to be loved the way he loves you. But if that's not what you want, if he's really not what you want, then that's okay Veronica. It's okay to let him go."

Veronica opens her mouth to answer him. There is so much left to say. But she gets caught up in the idea of it. The very idea of letting go for good, of living her own life separately from his indefinitely. She'd thought she could do it once, she'd been so sure, but now after only one week of being back it literally feels impossible. But she also know it's going to get so much worse for her before it gets better.

10:20 pm Friday September 7

She camps outside the hotel lobby holding her stupid shoe box for an hour until a visibly inebriated Logan shows up supported by Dick. She's pissed until she realizes she has no right to be. Dick spots her before Logan does and actually looks a little relieved.

"When will this day end," Logan moans as Veronica stands and Dick steers him towards her.

"I need to talk to you," she whispers.

"Lets not," he replies, just wanting to get through this weekend with a few pieces of his fucking heart still intact.

"Okay kids," Dick interrupts their staring contest by shrugging Logan off, "I'm getting married tomorrow. This is officially not my problem anymore. Figure out your shit solo."

"Okay great, bye," Veronica says dryly and without even glancing away from Logan. She doesn't see him walk away and she forgets him as soon as she's gone. There is only one thing on her mind, and she's practically tapping her foot in anticipation.

Logan doesn't say anything, just stands there on his semi wobbly feet staring at her blankly, "Can I just go to sleep please?"

"Jesus Logan," she sighs tiredly, "I'm trying to give you what you want. Do you have to make it so difficult?"

"Yes," he shrugs, "It's only fair."

But still, when she shakes her head and turns away he follows. They walk without talking, and with him a few steps behind. She doesn't exactly know where they're going but eventually she finds the door that leads to the outdoor pool. Setting her box on the nearest table she turns to face him. And the staring contest begins again.

10:30 pm Saturday September 7

She opens the door still in her dress but with her shoes off and a can of mini bar peanuts in her hand. Her lip stick is smudged and her brow is furrowed even when she smiles. "Hey," she studies him, coat off and pants sandy, "I don't know if this is bad luck or not."

"Like anything else could go wrong?" Dicks asks as he sidesteps her and collapses on Mac's bed face first.

"Well that was a jinx," she scolds as she sets down her peanuts on the dresser and deftly twists her fingers to undo the clasp of her diamond bracelet, "Now something else is definitely going to happen."

"Probably," Dick nods into the duvet, ""Veronica cornered Logan and I in the lobby. They're talking now."

"That's a good thing," Mac points out.

"Maybe," Dick relents as he flips over.

"Definitely," she persists, nudging her fiancé with her foot so he'll sit up and unzip her dress, "At this point Logan and Veronica can't do enough talking."

"At least we can tell our kids about a crasher getting arrested at our rehearsal dinner," Dick comments as he pulls down her zipper and kisses her shoulder blade for good measure.

"And at least it drowned out your stepmom's toast," Mac grins as the dress slips off her shoulders. She lets it pool around her feet, stepping out and heading for the bathroom to take off her makeup.

"Hey, Juanita does the best she can with English," Dick argues in feigned outrage as he watches her walk away very closely. After a moment of contemplation he adds softly, "Did you know?"

"Obviously not or I would have intercepted her on the way to the microphone," Mac jokes over her shoulder, it's not until she's looking at her face in the bathroom mirror that she answers his actual question, "No, she didn't tell me."

"But you kind of did right?" he prods, flopping back on the bed again.

"I knew she was hurting. I thought it had more to do with New York guy then Logan," as she swipes at her face with a washcloth she considers the last statement and then adds with a small smile, "Which is stupid because it always has more to do with Logan then anyone else." He doesn't reply so she finishes quietly. She unpins her hair and then walks to the bed, falling down alongside him.

He turns and reaches out, winding his fingers through her hair. It's always been his fascination. She still experiments with streaks and highlights constantly, though she'd dyed it back to a uniform color for the wedding last week. Previously she'd had chunks of coral framing her face. They call her hairstyles eccentric in all the tech magazines, but to him it's just a reminder of the girl he'd fallen in love with in college. She's still the cool girl whose too smart for him. Even though after all these years she's so much more then that. "You look really pretty," he observes lamely.

She rubs a hand over her face, smiling indulgently. "I look tired," she argues.

"Not to me," he replies. She shifts, draping her body over his chest, he accommodates without thinking, lacing his fingers together at the small of her back. Her chin rests just under his collarbone, her dark eyes studying him. "Less then a day now," he observes with a smile, "How are your feet?"

"Sore from all the heels," she cracks with a silly grin. He rolls his eyes so she pushes herself up on her elbow and kisses him lazily. "I love you so much it's probably impossible," she whispers when she pulls away, brushing the hair out of his eyes with her thumb.

"Thank God," he smirks, lifting up to kiss her again.

"Are you sold on this whole separate bedrooms thing?" he asks eventually in a breathless tone.

She nods; a little bit past coherent thought as his hands have long since migrated underneath her slip. He winces and she adds coyly, "But I could probably be persuaded for a brief breach in protocol."

His face lights up as he mumbles against her neck, "You know I love it when you talk dirty babe."

She shrieks as he suddenly flips her onto her back. Her finger knotting in the bedspread as he does his best to make her cave, she closes her eyes, "This is definitely bad luck."

10:30 pm September 7

"I can't let you go," she says it suddenly and in a voice too loud for the deserted pool area. He's just staring at her with a jaw like a rubber band and she knows that if she doesn't get there first she never will. The only solution is to get it all out before he can ruin it.

"Veronica-" he tries to interrupt but they're practically standing a half a room apart so she pretends not to hear it and keeps going.

"I fell in love with you the day we found Trina at that hotel. When you realized your mother was never coming back. You fell apart in my arms and I fell in love with you. And I've never stopped. I'm sorry. I know it's hard loving me back, I really do. I know we hurt each other. But I can't let you go. I have never loved anyone like I love you and it's the scariest thing I didn't do on purpose. I want us to be together, I've always wanted that, but I never know how to make it work. So if this is what you want, if this what you need then fine. I can tell you the truth. I can tell you how it happened." She hates this feeling, the anticipation of laying herself naked in front of someone. It's why she so rarely allows herself the luxury of honesty when half-truths are so much safer.

"A month ago I was in Seattle," she begins, glancing down at her hands in an effort to remain detached. There are certain parts of the story where she'd prefer not to see the look on his face, "I was part of an investigative team searching for a man named Alexander Corso. He'd been hopping across the country kidnapping little girls. Molly Turner in Albany, Yvonne Glazer in Tampa, Holly Clark in Tuscon, and we suspected Amanda Newman in Seattle. We'd compiled a lot of background information on Corso. He'd been abused as a child by his mother, father and whoever else happened to be strung out in the shack he grew up in. When he was twelve his mother mixed the wrong combination of pills and booze and ended up flinging herself off a fifth story balcony. And that was his signature, he'd hurt the girls until they were gone and then throw them out of windows." She pauses, this intimate detail making her swallow hard.

"You're not going to scare me," he warns, his voice empty even though he's hanging on her every word, every twitch of her body. His mouth is dry in anticipation, his fists clenched. He doesn't know from one moment to the next if he's going to cry or drive his hand through a wall. He keeps it all off his face though, afraid that if he reacts even slightly Veronica will stop talking.

"Yes I am" she disagrees resolutely, "I'd been on his trail nearly my whole career, ever since the first case in Albany. He took Molly all the way to Tampa. She was with him for six months. Her mother was crying every time I saw her. By Seattle I was obsessed. I wanted him so bad I couldn't do anything but think about it. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. I thought I was throwing up because I was making myself sick." She looks away again and he closes his eyes for the briefest second.

"We caught a break and pinned him down to a warehouse by the bay. We're supposed to search bottom to top, no exceptions. But even though we couldn't hear him I knew where he was. So I broke off and headed to the fifth floor. He grabbed me by the stairs and knocked my gun out of my hand. I got a shot off but it went wild. He kicked my legs out and knocked me in the head until I saw stars. Then he dragged me into the room where he was holding Mandy and locked the door. It took them four and a half minutes to break down the door. He was insane, muttering and screaming and crying. Mandy was bleeding all over, and her eyes were closed. He threw me to the ground and started kicking me. I lost one of my molars and was probably one face shot away from a broken cheek bone. He bruised my ribs and legs but it wasn't until the end that I noticed the blood between my thighs," she hesitates, and as he watches she seems to come to some sort of conclusion and adds, "He was dragging me by my hair when my team kicked their way in. He was going to throw me out the window, me and then Mandy and then maybe himself. And when they shot him he fell on top of me." She doesn't know what she expected, definitely more screaming, but he's giving her nothing. His eyes are staring at her fixedly but she can't tell where his mind is. And maybe that's a good thing.

"I was in the ambulance when they first used the word miscarriage. I was out of my mind in pain. I barely understood my own name let alone what they were trying to describe to me. It wasn't until much later at the hospital that a doctor explained I had been pregnant, around two months along. I knew it was yours because Jackson had been in Atlanta for a month and a half on assignment and by the time he got back it was to break up with me. I can't explain what I felt. I wish I could." It's not good enough. She knows that from the heartbroken look in his eyes, the real him breaking through at last. Logan has always been emotionally generous, always willing to strip himself bare. It's not being even to deny him this, so for the first time she tries to express what she'd felt as she laid nearly catatonic in that hospital bed. Her words come out unsteady and soft but she manages to look him right in the eye, "It was like looking into the sun, it doesn't hurt at first but then you get this black hole in your vision, and even when you blink it doesn't go away."

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, but for the first time in maybe his whole life he has nothing to say. Surprisingly Veronica fills in the blanks, falling down into a deck chair she hides her face in her hands, rubbing her temples with her palms as she speaks, "I never thought about kids. Not as a reality like most people do. I knew you would want them eventually, but after we broke up it didn't even feel like a possibility anymore. It's pretty funny actually. I was lying in a bed being told I'd lost something I'd never wanted in the first place and I didn't feel relieved. I didn't feel relieved at all Logan."

He wants to touch her, fuck it all and just cross the distance and make them both feel better. But he can't move, he can't do anything. He wonders not for the first time what he did to piss off the God or fate or whatever has a hand in the events of his life. He supposes it's only fair that health, looks, and wealth should come with a price but a dead mom, dad, first love, and first kid seems a bit steep. And that's not even counting what he feels for the girl across from him. The kind of love that is inevitable and miserable and impossible to escape and about a million other things too. The kind of love that makes him forgive her even when he's still angry. He sinks to the ground, finally saying, "Okay."

"Okay?" she looks up, "What's okay?"

"Nothing," he replies, "But what do I say Veronica? Where do I even fucking begin with this one?"

"Someone always has to pay right?" she whispers back, and his mouth falls open. He's about to start yelling when a familiar sound splits the air between them and both whirl.

Standing there impossibly with a gun is a man Logan promised they would never see again. Daniel Jameson smiles, his finger on the trigger, "Speaking of paying…"