Finite Erasure
Time had stopped. Tick tock, tick tock, and then nothing. Nothing at all. The pain swept her away, dropped her in the middle and left her there to bleed to death. It wouldn’t stop. The sweet rush of warmth down her legs, and it wouldn’t stop. The baby wouldn’t stop crying now, but she was sure it wasn’t here, wasn’t in the room with her.
Time had stopped.
The confusion was eating at Veronica’s brain, eating it like the mouse ate the cheese, or the rat. Veronica was sure there were rats there, in the corner, just out of her line of sight. They’d forgotten her. Mama and Brute, they’d left her here in the dark. Days, minutes, days, maybe years. No, she told herself, it couldn’t be years. She’d be dead if she’d lain there for years.
The door was open, and there was a man. A man. Veronica tried to roll over, tried to do what was expected of her. Tried to do what Mama would want, but she couldn’t move. The pain in her belly nearly tore her in half, and she was so cold. The coldness running through her veins.
Maybe, she thought, maybe it was all over now. Maybe she was dying, maybe she was already dead.
***
Logan cried along with Veronica as the words came stumbling out of her mouth. There were starts, fits and stops as she spoke. Broke the words down and choked on them. She struggled, the ghosts in the corner urging her to do as she was told. But she didn’t want to; she didn’t want to be that girl anymore.
“Who am I, Logan?” She questioned softly, when the tears had slowed.
“You’re Veronica Mars,” Logan responded into her hair, the silken tresses pressed against his cheek. “You’re Veronica Mars,” He repeated, reassuring her with every single touch.
“But… who is that? Who is she?” She questioned, her voice hoarse from crying.
“Whoever you want her to be,” Logan stated resolutely. He held her close and cried with her.
“They’re here, you know. Mama and Brute. The babies, the girls… the ones that didn’t make it. They’re all here now,” Veronica whispered, staring over his shoulder at the ghosts of the past.
“No one’s here but us,” Logan choked out, pulling away to see the hated blank look on her face. He watched as it cleared, watched as she moved back to look at him.
“There’s always someone else here. They… make them go away?” She cried, burying her head back into his shoulder. The tears once more falling down her cheeks.
“We will,” Logan promised, certainty in his voice. “We’ll do it together.”
“What if we can’t?” She gasped out, voicing her fears.
“There’s nothing we can’t do, Veronica. Nothing.” Logan promised again, the sound of the door to Veronica’s room opening momentarily startling him. Glancing up he saw his family, saw the others framed in the light from the hallway. “There’s people here, your family, they’ll help. We’ll all help.” Logan promised, turning his head to meet Keith’s eyes.
“Veronica?” Keith’s voice broke through the silence in the room. “Veronica, there’s some people I want you to meet.”
Pulling out of Logan’s arms she turned to face the door. Turned to face her past staring her in the face. She remembered them all, remembered them from the good times and the bad times. She remembered…
“Weevil.” She whispered, smiling slightly at the shocked look on the biker’s face. She turned to the next boy in the group, the next man, smile faltering slightly as she tried to place him, tried to remember where she knew him from. “Dick?” She looked to Logan for confirmation, nodding when his mouth quirked up at the corner. Veronica’s sure he shouldn’t be here. She’s sure she didn’t like him, but the gentle smile on his face makes her hesitate, makes her doubt the fragile memories that are clambering to get in.
Keith moved further into the room, the others trailing in behind him. “Meg and Duncan.” Veronica’s voice broke once more through the stillness, taking in their solemn faces. “Mac…” she paused, trying to place the young boy beside Mac. Unable to do so she turned faced Wallace. “Wallace, Alicia.” She paused, the young boy held in Alicia’s arms slightly familiar, a mirror image of a younger version of Wallace. “Darryl.” She stated with certainty, before turning once more towards the young man she’d not been able to place. “Cas…” she trailed off searching for the word, the right name. “Cassidy.” She whispered out, something knotting tightly in her stomach.
It slid, slick and wet through her consciousness, and she burrowed deeper into Logan’s embrace. She didn’t understand, couldn’t place the point where she became uncomfortable, couldn’t pin down the slick sliding fear that overcame her.
“Hey, Veronica.” Duncan’s voice broke through the fear. Brought her back to the present, to the people waiting on her, for her, the people crowding her hospital room.
“Hey.” Veronica whispered, burying her face in Logan’s shoulder. It was too much, too many people, too little space. Too many things all at once, crowding her brain. The pain from her earlier confessions lanced through her and the wail of a baby drifted through her mind.
They all began to speak at once, but Veronica couldn’t hear them. Could only hear the distant rumble of her memories crashing through the surface. They didn’t understand, couldn’t know.
“Stop.” She whispered. Soft words and the room went quiet. “Too loud.” She spoke against Logan’s shirt, mouthing the fabric, leaving a damp patch when she breathed.
“Why don’t we try one at a time?” Keith suggested helpfully, moving further into the room, sitting on Veronica’s hospital bed. Veronica watched as Alicia moved closer to her father, linking their hands, Keith tightening his grip before slowly releasing it. The reflexive motion brought Veronica back to the present.
“One at a time.” She nodded, repeating her father’s statement. She knew them all, knew them, but could barely remember them. Logan told her stories, when she couldn’t sleep. Mac and Beaver were together, college students, living in dorms while they carried on their relationship. They were getting married three days after they graduated.
Duncan and Meg had a baby. A baby Veronica hadn’t known about, but that was born six months after she’d left Neptune. No, she corrected herself, six months after they thought she’d disappeared. They weren’t… married. They lived together, were happy, held Logan’s hand while he cried. Logan cried.
Eli Navarro was the biker Logan disliked, hated, tolerated on occasions. Logan told her, explained that Weevil always owed her favors, always owed her something. He’d dated Lilly Kane, Veronica’s best friend. Her best friend who’d died. Not Wallace. Wallace was her best friend then. After? She questioned, she couldn’t place it, couldn’t figure it out in her head.
She took them all in silently, watching every one of them be still and silent at her father’s command, no one willing to go first. Veronica smiled hesitantly, encouragingly. These people, they were family. She knew family, knew what the concept was. Logan was family, Keith was family. They visited, listened, cried for her when she wasn’t able to cry for herself.
“I’m Veronica.” She spoke again, proudly, unsure of exactly what she was saying. She watched Meg begin to cry, watched her burry herself in Duncan’s arms. Watched the play of emotion on each of their faces. They didn’t understand what she was trying to say, but then, Veronica didn’t either. “I’m Veronica Mars.” She stated again, elaborating, trying to make sense of the thoughts in her head. Trying to make sense of the room full of people. “I’m here.” She stated, looking to Logan for approval, seeing the same confusion on his face.
Veronica thought, struggled, fought to find the words to explain, to make them understand, to help herself to understand. “I’m Veronica Mars and I’m here.” She said again, frustration clearly on her face. She stood, pulling herself out of Logan’s embrace, standing slight and tall in the dimly lit room. “I’m Veronica Mars and I’m here.” She breathed, and finally, realization dawned on her. She’d survived. She was here, surrounded by her family, and she’d survived.
Duncan watched the play of emotions on Veronica’s face, watched the train of thought derail as she came to a conclusion. Unsure of the point she was trying to get across, he pulled away from Meg, moving closer to her. Slowly, trying not to spook her as he gently touched her arm. “I’m Duncan Kane.” He felt foolish saying it, she’d already said his name, she’d already acknowledged his presence. “I’m Duncan and I’m here.” He drew her slowly into his arms, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. She was real, Veronica Mars was finally real.
One by one they moved closer, each in turn saying their names, reintroducing themselves as they hugged her gently, reassuring themselves that she was, in fact, real. Veronica drooped, in the midst of the welcome, in the midst of the tears. She visibly wilted as the world tilted around her. She glanced in the corner of the room, and Mama shook her head, pointed to the bed. Veronica wilted, nodded, and yawned.
“I’m tired.” Her voice was small, exhausted, and Keith took her cue.
“All right everybody. I think Veronica’s had enough family time for one night. We can all come back tomorrow, after she’s had a good night’s sleep.” He ushered them out the door as everyone called goodbyes and goodnights over their shoulders. Once more, Veronica was alone with Logan.
“I’m tired.” Veronica repeated, exhausted, emotionally drained, uncomfortable with all the touching and hugging. They’d touched her in love, not in anger, she told herself, they touched her with love.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you into bed.” Logan spoke gently, a small smile on his face as he tucked her beneath the blankets. “I’ll be right back.” Logan kissed her forehead, before leaving the room, nearly trampling the others in the hall.
“She’s exhausted.” He spoke, but a smile played across his face. “She’s tired enough to sleep I think.” Keith nodded, smiling. It was a step towards getting their Veronica back. One more step in a long and intricate dance they’d been stepping for months.
“We’re going back to the hotel. Don’t think I’m going to let your little escapade tonight go, though. We’ll talk about it later.” Nodding resolutely, Keith took Alicia’s hand and made his way towards the elevators, not waiting for the goodbye scene to play out behind him.
Meg and Mac hugged Logan quickly, saying their quiet goodbyes as Logan traded nods with all the boys. Dick headed towards the elevators without a word before turning back towards Logan, taking the few steps quickly he enveloped Logan in a quick hug. “I’m gonna head home. I shouldn’t be here.” Dick stated, softly, sympathetically before heading back towards the elevators. Not bothering to give Logan a chance to respond.
“We’ll all be back tomorrow, man.” Duncan said, following quickly after his girlfriend.
Heading back into the room, Logan saw that Veronica was already asleep. Curled up in the hospital bed looking small. Fragile. Safe. She looked safe.
***
There were a lot of loud noises in the dark room. A dark room away from the awful smelling one she had spent so much time in. A different room, the same men. Veronica’s mind assumed they were the same men. The pain was worse here and there was white. Veronica had forgotten what white looked like. No more dirt, no more shades of brown and faded red. There was white. It hurt her eyes at first, the brightness, the light. The hands rough on her tender flesh.
There was a machine, a bird? She wasn’t sure, but it whirled, groaned, as they loaded her into it. Into the belly of the beast, Veronica’s mind reminded her, that the belly was the worst place to be. She felt a pinch on her neck and the dizzying blades above her head faded to nothingness.
***
She was alone when she woke up. Her belly hurt, burned, fire, and there was something stuck in her skin. Reaching her hands down she tried to pull at it, tried to tear them out, they itched, hurt, burned, the fire inside her raged out of control.
Fingers worked industriously, she managed to get one of the pieces of wire from her skin before a dark skinned woman in white came bustling into the room.
“Now girl, stop that. The nice doctor just put all of those in for you, and we don’t want you to undo everything he did, do you?” She paused, watched as Veronica shrank in on herself. “No matter, it’s only one.” The nurse reached carefully to the side of the bed, she grabbed the first lined cuff attached to the side rail. “Let’s just make sure you don’t hurt yourself, kay?” The nurse questioned softly as she watched carefully for any reaction Veronica might have given. The cuff slid easily around her too thin wrist, set to the smallest setting, and Veronica could see the doubt in her eyes. Unsure of what it meant, Veronica tugged experimentally on the cuff, surprised when her hand didn’t slip immediately free.
“The doctor will be in later, sweets, just lay back and rest.” The nurse bustled to the other side of the bed, petted Veronica’s lank hair before she placed the other cuff around Veronica’s other wrist. “There now, all set.” The nurse changed the IV bag, clicked something on the monitor, and then she was gone in a cloud of vanilla scented perfume.
Veronica took in her surroundings, tried to place where she was, what was happening. They’d fixed the pain in her belly, made it fly out the window. The water in the bag was… was…
Those were Veronica’s last thoughts before she drifted once more into exhausted slumber.
***
Noon the next day brought Veronica another room full of visitors. She refused to leave her bed, exhausted and wan from the night before. Everyone stayed quiet, watching as she slept off and on throughout the day. Quietly chatting with each other as they sat their vigil.
Veronica had a nightmare in the middle of the afternoon, waking up gasping, clawing at her stomach with clawed fingers. She gasped, yelled Logan’s name, cried until she couldn’t breathe and promptly passed out. Logan was beside himself, unable to do anything to help her, unable to protect her. The others watched in quiet desperation as Veronica struggled with herself, struggled with the demons eating away at her.
“This is normal?” Duncan asked Logan quietly, unsure if their presence had made things worse, wanting to know if this was a regular occurrence.
“As normal as anything is anymore.” Logan admitted, brushing Veronica’s hair off her forehead, cooling her sweaty face. “She has nightmares sometimes, bad ones, more of a night terror really.” Logan spoke quietly, barely turning to look at the others in the room.
“Is there anything we can do?” Meg asked, tear stricken. It was too much, what Veronica had been through, Meg couldn’t understand how she’d survived. How anyone could survive that much damage.
“Let her sleep it off. She’s out now, for a while at least. Anyone want to go make a coffee run?” Logan asked, changing the subject abruptly. He’d learned that it didn’t pay to dwell on her nightmares; it only drove him insane with worry.
“I’ll go.” Weevil volunteered, unfolding himself from his position on the floor. “Come with me, Fennel. We’ll grab lunch for everyone too.” Weevil patted Wallace’s shoulder, waiting while guy stood up.
Logan automatically reached for his wallet, going to give Weevil money. “Don’t worry about it. I got this one.” Weevil waved Logan off, heading out the door without another word.
“Any allergies?” Wallace spoke up perkily as he headed after Weevil, not bothering to wait for the others to answer.
***
She was never alone. Women in white, men in coats, but no one touched her. They moved, they talked, they expected her to understand. More often than not she ignored them. Totally aware of her surroundings, but not acknowledging them, if she admitted they were there they’d touch her, they’d… do things. Veronica knew they’d do those things to her, they all did.
Very careful to keep her face blank when the smiling woman in white changed the bag of water, Veronica watched everything she did, committed it to memory. If she could just remember, Veronica convinced herself, if she could just remember everything then nothing could touch her again.
The bag changed, and the world spun dizzily. She tried to protest, tried to stay aware of her surroundings, but it was too much. The world slipped away, the room became fuzzy, and the wail of babies sung her to sleep.
***
There was a man. One man in a black suit that came to visit her every night. He stood in the corner of the room and didn’t make a sound. He barely breathed while he watched her. He was the one she was most afraid of. The ones that watched were always the worst.
The day he spoke, Veronica broke out in a cold sweat, her skin cold and clammy. He called her Jane, telling her about the weather outside, the night skyline she could see from the window. She was allowed to look out the window. At least she thought she was… no one had stopped her from sitting in the chair. She thought she remembered missing the wind on her face, the sun on her skin. She thought, but she couldn’t remember.
Veronica didn’t acknowledge the man either. Aware of every spot he had touched, every place he had been in her room, but unwilling to let him know. Unwilling to make contact because the smaller she was, the less likely he was to notice her. If she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her.
The second time he spoke, he talked about her. Jane Doe was what he’d called her, but she knew that wasn’t right. Knew the sounds were wrong when he’d called her by name. She didn’t correct him.
***
Time is running together. The ghosts, her family, the time between, and she can’t figure out which is real anymore. Veronica clings to Logan, watches as the others file in and out of her room, but she doesn’t worry about them. Doesn’t worry about the ones that hug her and kiss her forehead. They’re gentle with her and she wants them to be real.
The malevolent stares of the others, the ones hiding in the shadowy corners of the room, those are the ones she worries about. The babies’ wail is near constant, echoing in her ears so she can’t hear the questions Logan asks her. Can’t hear the words on her family’s lips. She wants them to be real, wants them to be here with her. The ghosts, the demons, don’t want to let her go.
Veronica thinks they want her back, dark skinned hands reaching out for her, wanting to pull her close, take her away. She’s sure she’s losing her mind. She glances frantically around the room, heart rate picking up when Mama brushes close to Weevil, trailing her hand across his bald head in a manner Veronica thinks is supposed to be seductive. He’s the one Mama wants Veronica to kneel for. A good, handsome, Mexican man, Mama whispers, good for a tumble. He wouldn’t hurt Veronica, not really. Veronica shakes her head against Logan’s shoulder, burying her face against the soft cotton of his shirt. He pats her back gently, searching the room for anything that might have caused her distress.
Mama’s voice is loud in Veronica’s ear now, screaming at her to do as she’s told. Mama is the boss, Mama causes pain, and Veronica moves. An inch, but Logan refuses to let her go. Pulls her closer and strokes her back, holds her tighter and brushes the hair back from her face.
Day turns to evening, and no one shows signs of leaving, settling in for the night…or until Logan and Keith throw them out into the hallway on their butts.
The ghosts are getting closer, strangling Veronica with their constant demands. She can’t tell the difference anymore, except for Logan’s arms wrapped tightly around her. Mama seems to like Weevil the most, curling around him and whispering to Veronica. She wants Veronica to touch him, wants her to… make her some money. Veronica shakes her head, burrowing deeper into Logan’s embrace.
Patting her back, Logan watches the others, watches them nodding off against the wall. It is late, very late, they all have to leave soon. All have to go. Veronica is shifting in his embrace, her breathing getting more labored by the minute. The soft panicked breathing alerting him to her real state of mind.
Logan can feel her lips moving against his chest, her lips mouthing at the fabric as she speaks quietly. He waves his hand impatiently at the loudly talking crew, urging them to shut up so he could make out the words.
“No, no, no, nononononono,” until it became one long litany.
Logan stares resolutely over the top of her head at the crowd. “That’s it for tonight, everybody out.” His tone brooks no arguments and the others turn to leave, calling goodbyes over their shoulders. Keith stays behind.
“She okay?” Keith asks, watching Veronica pressed tightly against Logan.
“Not really, but she will be.” Veronica’s voice comes out muffled, soaked with tears, from against Logan’s shirt. She turns her face to the side, staring at her father with glistening eyes. “It was just too much, all of them here at once. Next time…” she trails off, the idea left open for Logan and Keith’s interpretation.
“Right. I’m going back to the hotel for some sleep.” Keith pauses at the door, turning back towards the two kids on the floor. “Try to get some too, okay? They’ll all be back here tomorrow, and you’ll both need your rest.” Keith rolls his eyes, as he opens the door and hears the argument between Dick and Weevil in the hallway.
Logan rubs gently at Veronica’s back, soothing her with his gentle touch. “Let’s get you up in the bed, shall we? Much more comfortable there, than it is here on the cold floor.” He jokes weakly, easily lifting the slight Veronica into his arms as he stands.
Placing her on the bed, he tucks the covers around her, wrapping her tightly to keep out the chill in the room. Moving to grab the chair by the window so that he’ll have something to stretch his legs on, he pauses at the feel of Veronica’s hand gripping his arm.
“Stay?” Veronica asks softly, a note of pleading in her voice.
“I am. I’m not going anywhere, well other than to get the chair.” Logan smiles, once more trying to move towards the chair.
“No. I mean, stay here with me.” Veronica intones, watching Logan’s reaction as she tugs gently on his arm. “Keep the ghosts away. Mama’s here. She won’t go away, Logan. She wants me too… wants me too...” she whispers out, fear staining her voice, making it shake. Mama was only a foot away from the bed now, real and clear in Veronica’s mind. She breathes, she talks, she threatens. Brute is there behind her, standing to Veronica’s left, Mama’s right, waiting for the order, the order to smash until the aggression is worked out of his system.
“They aren’t here. Is that what was bothering you?” Logan asks hesitantly, wanting to soothe her but unsure of how to fight Veronica’s ghosts.
“They’ve been here all day.” She admits softly, not daring to look at Mama anymore. Not daring to acknowledge her.
“Don’t look, sweetheart. Ignore them. Imagine they aren’t there.” Logan leans down kissing her forehead.
“Stay with me? Here?” Veronica repeats, pulling him closer, tugging at his hand until he climbs in beside her. “Just… make them go away.” She whispers, once more burying her face in his shirt. “Make them stop.” She whispers, not daring to look over to where Mama is standing.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Logan cuddles her close, holding her tightly as he glares at the rest of the room. “They can’t hurt you anymore. Not now that I’m here. They can’t touch you.” He whispers, kissing the soft hair at the top of her head. “I won’t let them.” He promises softly.
“Just hold me, they can’t touch me that way.” Veronica states, absolutely certain that Logan would protect her. Mama slowly disappearing into the shadows, Brute beside her. They’re almost gone. “Just hold me.” She repeats again, moving closer as Logan’s arms tighten further around her, making it hard to breathe. “They’re almost gone.” She whispers in awe, watching the ghosts fade from the room. The sound of the baby crying a distant echo in the back of her mind.
Logan’s hesitation melts away in that instant, glaring into the room at large. No one was going to scare Veronica, not even the ghosts she can’t seem to exorcize. He cradles her in his arms, resting her head on his chest. He holds her as her breathing deepens, he holds her as the sun breaks over the horizon. Logan stays awake for all of it.
He strokes her back. Runs his fingers through her hair. Whispers to her in the darkness of the room. Whispers all of his hopes and promises, until they are laid bare before her. On Veronica’s part, she sleeps on, unaware of the world around her. A dark, dreamless sleep.
The sun peaks through the drawn curtains, catching his eye. Logan pauses with his fingers tangled in Veronica’s hair, looking towards the window. Towards the sun peaking through, and finally, he understands.
It’s a new day.
***
She couldn’t stop shaking, cold, so cold from the tops of her toes to the tips of her head. They’d taken the bag of water away yesterday, removed the sharp thing from her arm. The world became clearer, Veronica shivered under blankets, sweat soaked her skin. Sharper, the room was sharper. The white hurt her eyes, the blood ran across the floor and Veronica didn’t understand.
Why was there blood on the floor? A blanket, a casket, she couldn’t make tails or heads of it.
***
The man in black was back again. Earlier this time, Veronica thought, earlier because the sun was still in the sky. He held her hair back when she vomited, thick and vile all over the floor. Wiped her face with a cool face cloth when the salt licked at her skin. He was gentle and scary. The gentle ones were never what they seemed.
They took the bag away, she’s not sure when, but they took the bag away. She wanted to ask for it back, wanted the numbness it afforded her, wanted the world to be not so bright, not so sharp that the edges cut into her eyes. She wanted it to stop.
He held her hair back and the world tilted precariously on the top of a spindle. It seesawed back and forth until Veronica fell off.
***
Steven steps into Veronica’s room as the sun in rising, taking note of the Echolls boy in her bed. They’re both sleeping soundly, by the looks of it. But Logan Echolls’ eyes pop open when the door clicks shut behind Steven. They stare at each other for a moment, neither saying a word. Steven moves further into the room, taking the seat beside the bed.
Logan turns to continue staring at Steven. Unsure of why the man is there this early in the morning. Why he’s there at all. “What did you want?” Logan finally asks, the strained silence grating on his nerves.
“You’re father wasn’t responsible for the bus crash,” Steven says softly, his voice a bare whisper in the quiet room.
“Keith told me,” Logan admits, holding Veronica a little tighter, just a little closer.
“That means someone else was,” Steven states, still staring at the two entwined on the bed.
“I realize that. Someone had to cause the crash if Aaron didn’t do it.” Logan rolls his eyes at the stupidity of the FBI agent’s statement. The way he stated the obvious. “Your point?”
“The case has been reopened. I’ve been assigned to it. Since I’ve been working Veronica’s case,” Steven states, turning his head to look out the window.
“And?” Logan’s getting impatient, unsure of exactly where Steven was going with the conversation.
“And, Veronica’s the only witness. The only one alive.” Steven turns back to Logan, staring him straight in the eyes. “She’s the only witness, Logan.”
Logan thinks about that for a moment, thinks about the statement. It iss true. Veronica was the only one alive. The only one that had been on the bus, moments before it crashed. Somewhere in her mind were the memories, buried deep and lost to the hand fate dealt her… Logan corrected himself harshly, lost to the hand his father had dealt her.
“What do you want?” Logan asked bluntly.
“I’m going to solve this case, but I’m going to need Veronica’s help,” Steven spoke just as softly, not wanting to disturb Veronica.
“No,” Logan spoke resolutely. Veronica was not going anywhere near the case, not after everything she’d been through.
“I want to help,” Veronica spoke up, still pressed tightly against Logan’s side. Neither man had been aware she’d awoken during their conversation. “Isn’t that what I do? Or did? Or something?” Veronica asked, turning her head to stare up at Logan. “I used to save the day. You told me that.” Logan nodded slightly, fear and panic taking over.
“You did. But…Veronica…” Logan trailed off at the look in her eye, the resolution clearly marked on her face.
“I want to be me again, Logan. I just want to be me again,” she whispered, ignoring Steven completely. Seeking Logan’s permission.
The old Veronica never would have asked, Logan thought. So many changes to his girl, so many changes and none of them made the least bit of sense.
“Let me think about it?” Logan asked, not wanting to say no to her. “Let’s talk to Keith and go from there.” He compromised quickly as her mouth turned down.
“I’m doing it.” She turned slowly towards Steven. “I’ll help.” She turned quickly back towards Logan, stating the words she’d said at the turning point. The point Logan marked in his mind as the moment Veronica started to return. “I want to go home.”
He stared at her for a moment before slowly nodding.
“I want to go home,” she whispered, oblivious to Steven staring at them, oblivious to the room around her she repeated one more time, in wonder, in awe, in resolution.
“I want to go home.”
The End
In case anyone was curious. There is a timeline for the entire fic. The dates I used and kept in mind while writing.
You can find it here